


Sorakananas

by AQA473



Category: League of Legends
Genre: F/F, Futanari, Genderbending, I hate the changes they made to the League Universe, Pre-Retcon League of Legends, Pre-Rework Soraka (League of Legends), Rape/Non-con Elements, Reader feedback and criticism is encouraged, bad balance changes, mostly sex fic with too much story, sad Raka
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 00:27:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9691508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AQA473/pseuds/AQA473
Summary: The new patch is out and Soraka gets the worst of it. Her infuse is melee range and takes a lot of time to do. Her life changes in ways she never anticipated, especially when people start coming to her outside the Rift.





	1. Magical Science (Prologue)

“Finally; it’s perfected.” The mad chemist’s bandaged visage turned up in a shadowed grin. He held a sharp maroon beaker before his eyes, the contents steaming and sizzling. He tapped in once, grinning again as the liquid churned sending more plumes towards the ceiling of his lab. Various beakers, tubes, documents, vials, files, and piles of research surrounded him on his charred desk. Many experiments had brought him to this moment.

He held it aside with two fingers and peered down at a sheet of wrinkled parchment. The words scribbled there detailed the procedure required to utilize his newest creation: DRINK. He chuckled mildly to himself, casting the sheet to the floor.

“Something so powerful, taken so long to produce, is so simple to use.” His mask of wrappings tilted up once more. “If that arachnid bitch hadn’t been so stingy with her webs, I’d have been in my new world days ago, but no matter.” He laughed, hard, the wretched sounds reverberating off the metal walls encasing his madness. His cheer died down and he relinquished his mask, showing his scarred lips to the chilled air. He licked at his skin, sweat flowing down his mouth.

With a single motion, he held the vial above his open mouth and turned it upside down. The boiling liquid fell through the air, burning the oxygen it passed through. Singed smiled one last time as it slipped past his teeth and down his throat. He replaced the empty vial on a stand with several others, pulled up his mask, and sat. His hands laced together on the desk playing idle wars with the digits. He glanced around, his eyes darting to different objects. A stool. A chalk board covered in equations and theories. A cabinet filled with forgotten procedures and experiments from an age past. The remnants of the ingredients of his latest mix.

The scientist lurched forward suddenly, tossing fragile items off his desk. They clattered against the floor as his insides raged. He barred his teeth, chortling through his mask. He gripped the desk tight, leaving inch-deep marks in the metal. His skin burned, his muscles collapsed and reassembled themselves. His body was a tumult of activity, his clothed and bandaged body unraveling itself. He continued laughing, quickly turning into a cream, as fabric and blood fell from him. He beat his failing fists into his desk, tearing it apart in seconds. Then, skin began protruding from his chest. His eyes watched the scene, the skin tearing his garb to shreds exposing his taut, singed muscles. But it no longer looked like his chest. Bulbs seemed to form from his pectorals, pushing outwards carrying the peaks with them. He coughed blood out, feeling as though he had just been punched in the crotch. He stared in horror as the bulge between his legs decompressed and vanished. He thrashed around wildly, grabbing and destroying anything his morphing hands could grasp. He held a thick tome up, and before he could tear it with his hands, the skin of his palm cut through it like butter. He screamed again, blood mixing with paper and ink. Kneeling in the mess of his lab, his eyes blurred by tears, he came to a rest. His body stopped moving, the skin flat and unblemished against his muscles and organs.

He breathed heavily, the pant bearing a higher pitch than mere minutes ago. His eyes widened. He touched at his skin, feeling for all that was new. Fingers went first to investigate the new mounds that had formed below his collar. They resembled the mammary glands of a human female, firm and round. He squeezed one, gasping under the sensation. He picked up a leg of his shattered desk and tossed it javelin-style at a vat of chemicals and watched it melt.

He continued searching his body for any other surprises. The muscles in his neck, arms, abdomen, and legs had all increased. Not by much, but noticeably so. They were thick and tense, the abs well-defined beneath bloodied bandages. Then he noticed his fingers. They were still thick, but now leaner, pointed, angled. No longer the thin sausages he bore previously. He tore at his mask, shoving it to the ground. He ran out of the mess and into the sight of a crooked mirror. The image in the cracked glass stared back at himself, or rather, herself. Singed, the Mad Chemist of the Noxian military, esteemed Zaun scientist, and revered champion in the League of Legends, was a woman.

Singed touched the glass, her eyes traveling down her exposed body. The skin was the same color, certainly that which she was born with, but it was so different, so changed. She clenched her fingers, watching the muscles tense as she flexed. For all intents and purposes, the procedure was a success. She was stronger, faster, her senses more acute, but it had carried a price.

“Something went wrong,” Singed spoke, her voice that of a gruff woman. She ran back into her lab, more bandages sprawling through the air in her wake. She tossed papers around, grabbing ingredients and staring at various beakers before throwing them away. She scanned each document and analyzed every note, until her eyes came upon her chalkboard. It had remained untouched from her metamorphosis and still displayed her hard work in thick, white lines. She studied the board, fingers following the equations with a heavy mind.

“I used the web, the soil of the Shadow Isles, yes, yes, poured under the full moon of- yes! Got it, got it; I followed that, too! What fucking-!” Her shouts cut short as her gaze met the end of the board. “Oh no.” She touched the equation, the symbols explaining the use of an unorthodox material Singed always avoided. Except this time. Her eyes narrowed.

“I knew I shouldn’t have used magic. Science is a field for definitions, facts, reliability, but I had no other options. I needed that powder. I tried everything else. She said there wouldn’t be a…” Singed’s eyes widened. “She lied.” Her body went slack, her eyes glazed, blurring out the culprit equation. “That damn dirty deceiver!” Singed screamed, wrapping her newly acquired appendages around the blackboard and threw it so hard across the room that it exploded in a shower of mineral and wood. The debris clattered harmlessly against her new body and bounced on the floor. She stood motionless, her eyes frozen in place.

Silence wrapped the room in a shroud, the tiniest paper settling quietly in a pool of dried blood. Even the potions further into the lab seemed too scared to make bubbles in their viscous states. Steam vanished, leaving Singed alone in her wrecked den.

“Hm, hm?” The sound echoed outside Singed’s door, a hallway leading towards the Noxian labs proper. The door creaked open, revealing a scraggly head of wrinkles and static-charged hair pointing out in all directions. The person wore fogged goggles, but pulled them up onto their forehead. The being’s beady, black eyes, smaller than olives, looked Singed up and down, then replaced the goggles.

“Gonna take notes?” Singed said.

“Mmh, hm, no, no, no! Not a, hmm… no! Quite, yes? Done! Game Changer, changed game! I’ll say! Hee hee hee!” The knob of the door rotated around, the man’s hand twisting it.

“Yes.” Singed stood straight, looking down. Her body was unfamiliar. So many decades spent in her skin, and she felt… wrong. Stronger, faster, more acute, but it wasn’t the same. She flexed her fist. “I have work to do.”

“Yes, yes, of course! Yes, indeed. Shall I, shall I… yes?”

“No. I’ll set up. I’ll have a job for you, soon. Standby, Grayn.”

Grayn smiled back, a wicked grin that pronounced his buck-toothed overbite. “Indeed!”  
\---

Singed pulled the bandages tight, her breasts compressing into her chest painfully. She grunted and loosened the fabric. After finding a comfortable medium, she finished wrapping her body in the cloth. Not that is mattered anymore. The brew, dubbed the Game Changer as Grayn had so callously put, healed her scars and burns from a lifetime of harmful experiments. There would likely be more in the future, so she didn’t bother changing the habit of wrapping up.

Her red armor was gone, destroyed in the transformation, but she had planned for this. Maybe not this, but she had created a new set of armor created for an augmented, toned body. Though some new modifications would need to be made.

Business called for attention, so the modifications would have to wait. Singed opted for her old hextech gear buried in an old trunk that she was surprised to have relocated. The dark brown would serve well in hiding her new… assets from anyone who did not scrutinize for too long. Her freshly grown black locks, however, were plain to see. She didn’t have time to burn them off, though. The gas mask was missing, probably lost during a battle years ago, so Singed settled on her standard bandage mask.

Gear in place, the chemical prodigy left her lab and headed to the west. She doubted her quarry would be pleased to see her.

\---

The League of Legends. Its halls were a sort of dull, drab grey with dim lanterns lining the walls. There were enough rooms within the various wings of the institute to house every champion and then some but they were mostly inhabited by summoners. More moved in every month while the champions were satisfied living in their original homes. Champions mostly used the League as a cross-faction recreational area and place to view matches. Matches went on all day and could be viewed in many rooms within the institute through magical spheres that showed everything in real-time. The most used room for viewings was the mess hall, where many summoners and champions would place bets, cheer, and boo for and against the battling teams.

Singed arrived in the mess just as a match came to a close. She stood far enough away from wandering eyes so no one would notice her. Purple team destroyed the enemy nexus, prompting cheers from around the room and a few sour faces appeared within the crowd. Singed caught sight of LeBlanc, a powerful Noxian mage, dancing in the view screen. Singed’s eyes narrowed as the screen vanished.

People grunted as Singed shoved past everyone in her way. A few made rude comments, but she had no intention of stopping.

“Singed,” and eerie voice called to her. She cursed under her breath, coming to a stop. “You’ve been absent for days, working on that new brew of yours. I assume your appearance here means you were successful.”

“You could say that,” Singed replied, making no attempt to hide her feminine voice, as she turned around. Before her stood Swain, the general of the Noxian army. His visage stiffened, his hand clenching his staff tightly, as his eyes widened infinitesimally. His pupils traveled up and down Singed’s new form. Her chest was bound but still visible to those looking close enough. She had long, dark strands of hair protruding from her scalp that nearly reached her shoulders.

“General, I’m a little busy. Perhaps we could finish this some other time. Like, not-right-now,” Singed stated coldly.

“We need to discuss this.” His tone changed, but his voice was still commanding.

“Right, right. Yeah, of course, and we will, but certainly not now.” Before Swain had time to protest, Singed had already disappeared in the scattering sea of champions and summoners.

She reached the summoning chamber without further interruption just in time to see the participants of the last match leaving the room.

“There goes Ashe, Ryze, a summoner, there’s Zac,” she whispered from behind a corner. “But where’s-” The sight of a fluttering, golden cape cut her sentence short. She sneered, shoving through the remaining people.

“Well, if it isn’t sweet, little Singe-” Singed grabbed LeBlanc by the throat and tossed her to the floor. She turned to dust and vaporized upon contact. The true LeBlanc sauntered up seconds later. “Psh, you’re no fun. You always see through my mimic.”

“I don’t have time for your games, Deceiver.” Poison tipped her words.

LeBlanc grinned, her fingers teasing her chin. “But it looks like you most certainly took your time with them.” Her eyes scoured Singed’s body, much like Swain had done, but her eyes had a hunger to them that made Singed shuffle her feet.

“You bitch; what have you done to me?” Singed pushed the magician into a stone wall but the mage was left unharmed and in a fit of giggles. Signed searched her face, LeBlanc appearing completely relaxed. “You knew this would happen.”

She stopped laughing. “Of course I did, little boy. Or, should I say, little girl.” Her statement was followed with a giggle. “I’m not one for education, but I thought I could teach you lesson.”

“What in blazes are you blabbing about, you crazed witch?”

“You judge others too harshly. If they’re alive, you want to kill them. If you can’t kill them, you judge them, find weakness. That works for you, I’m sure, until you decide that one of those weaknesses was being a woman.” Singed remained silent. “Yes, you said that once. Perhaps twice. But I made sure you’ll never say it again.”

“When will it wear off?” Her voice softened but her muscles hadn’t. LeBlanc laughed again.

“Never, baby cakes. This change is permanent.” Singed stared at her, wide-eyed. “You got what you wanted, didn’t you, chemist boy? You’re new and improved. An added bonus being that you won’t go down for being punched in the Zaun jewels. Keep your chin up. You’re good at that.” Singed stared through LeBlanc as she walked past the frozen chemist. “Ta ta!”

Singed was soon alone in the summoner’s chamber. Sconce’s flickered on the walls, the summoning platforms dim. Singed opened her mouth then shut her jaw, clenched her teeth and flexed her fingers. The straps of her outfit squeaked under the friction of her stretching muscles, threatening to snap.

“Singed,” the eerie voice returned.

“General, please,” her voice was dark, subdued. She didn’t bother turning around this time, instead simply tilting her head to the side. She continued balling her hands into fists. They quaked uneasily as she looked at one of the fragile torches on the wall. She flinched as her shoulder was grabbed roughly and she was spun around. Swain looked no different. He didn’t look at Singed’s body this time. The raven on his shoulder stared where its master did.

“You are a powerful asset and I will not lose you to some failed experiment.”

“It wasn’t a failure,” Singed admitted. Swain rose a brow.

“It wasn’t? You are no longer a man.”

“Obviously. And I’m afraid the change is… permanent.” If Swain was affected by the news, he made no show of it. “But I’m stronger, faster, my senses are enhanced ten-fold. The potion did exactly as intended, only there was a catch. I don’t know if my sex change will negatively impact the final result.”

“Then I expect to see your new capabilities at the first opportunity.” Swain said. “If you can make this work, your appearance matters little. If this doesn’t, though, then I want you to find a way to reverse the effects as soon as possible.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice.”

Swain glared. “But only if you know for certain that you are worse in combat than you were before. Otherwise, you are to remain like this until you can create something superior.”

Singed blanched. “You can’t be serious. I’m not staying this way!”

“Singed, you are a deadly scientist. One of the best I’ve ever known. I need you to be as powerful as you can.” Singed nodded slowly, turning her gaze from her general. “Contact me with the results of your combat test. After you give me the report, we will never discuss this again.”

“Understood…”

Swain tapped his cane on the pavement, and was a swish of his cape, left the room. His raven crowed sharply as they stalked around the corner. Singed simply stared.

A minute passed in the quiet din of the League. Sounds echoed down the hallowed stone walls, itching Singed’s ears like unpicked wax. Her skin crawled under her wraps. Tender, strong muscles brimmed along those bones, but ached in discomfort. She could see potential in this form, but it hurt. Singed lived in pain, fought and grew by its unforgiving, unwavering code, but this…

This new pain was excruciating, on a level she couldn’t describe. It wasn’t that tough, biting, numb pain brought on by needles or flames, by the crushing blow of a truncheon. Nor was it the sick bubbling created in the pit of her stomach, the corrosion of her esophagus as a failed potion wound its way through her digestive track. It was something wholly new, and terrifying. She never believed this pain could exist, and she couldn’t even point it out. Trying to label it was like trying to hold the dots in her eye still, resisting the urge to blink to better see them.

Swain would get his report. Some kind of paper documenting the new skills and abilities granted by the Game Changer. But not for any reason other than to satisfy him. A new plan needed to be constructed, something that would result in a return to her, his, form. He would become him again. The desire burned deep in his chest. Yet, where to start?

A test subject, where many experiments began. To test… no, observe. The opposite effect. Another Game Changer? No, LeBlanc would not part with another powder, and nowhere did Singed know to locate it on his own. Then how to stimulate change?

Why, the only ones who can. The League would do it. They released those filthy laws, bound by magic, that altered the champions’ abilities, the rules of the game they all took part in, and even altered living form. It should be a simple matter to convince them that a certain champion was… deserving of new parameters. Now to select the subject.

“And I’ll leave that to you,” Singed spoke aloud.

Grayn trembled out around the doorway, shuffling into the room. He wrung his hands together, peeling already dry skin.

“Yes, yes, sir, quite. Away, away! Hee hee! Yes…” He adjusted his goggles. “And, mmh! What might I, hee hee… do for you-oooh!?” He tugged on his ear, twisting the lobe in his fingers.

“Find me a subject, alone and isolated, female, who can be… changed. Report to me and I’ll take care of the rest.”

He turned around, his feminine face grinning. “It’s time for science!”


	2. A Step in the Wrong Direction

In a show of torn cloth and shredded void-matter, a row of miniature beings collapsed giving small coins to their slayer. Caitlyn loaded in another cartridge, cursing as her rifle jammed when she pulled back the bolt.

“Bullocks! I’m out of mana. Suppose I’ll have to do without,” Caitlyn said. She pulled out the bolt and tossed the jammed bullet casing. Her attempt at repairing her weapon was interrupted as she fell forward. Her gun dropped to the side, her hands planted against the trampled grass of the Rift. She looked over her shoulder to see Soraka kneeling behind her. “Soraka, what are you-” In a swift motion, her panties were pulled down her closed legs. “Soraka!?”

“I-I have to Infuse you, right? M-mana, and all that…” Soraka said, her face growing a dark indigo. She didn’t look Caitlyn in the eyes as she pulled the cloth below her waist to the side, revealing a large phallus. It was a darker shade of blue than the rest of her skin. Its other details were hidden from the Piltover officer as Soraka buried the member deep inside Caitlyn.

“Gah!” Her head swung forward and her chest pressed into the grass. She cringed, pulling green blades between her whitening knuckles. “Sora… ka…” Saliva dribbled out the side of her mouth, her teeth tight. She grunted when Soraka’s belly touched Caitlyn’s rear.

“I’m,” Soraka swallowed. “Sorry.”

“Soraka, just pull out, I’ll be able to- guh!” Soraka rocked in and out of Caitlyn rapidly, pulling out all eleven inches before shoving inward. She grabbed onto Caitlyn’s shoulders. She panted, eyes closed and cheeks dark.

Caitlyn held her teeth together but her mouth flung open as she moaned loudly. She pulled up grass, her eyes losing focus. Soraka whispered something akin to an apology into Caitlyn’s ear, but she didn’t hear it. Her body vibrated with each thrust, her womb being hit repeatedly. Her back arced as she felt the familiar, but not recent, sensation of climax build in her center.

Soraka’s thrusts quickened, grunting softly into Caitlyn’s neck. She tugged at the skin of her carry’s shoulders with violet fingers. Caitlyn’s insides tightened, constricting Soraka’s member. Tears fell down her cheeks as she felt her orgasm wrack her body. She gripped Soraka’s waist as she stopped thrusting, her phallus fully within Caitlyn. Still under a heavy orgasm, Caitlyn felt a hot, thick fluid fill her. It merely intensified her sensations, but her vision and mind cleared at the same time.

Soraka’s cock twitched, letting out a few more spurts into Caitlyn. She sighed when it stopped. She rubbed Caitlyn’s bare shoulder affectionately. After a few seconds of heavy breathing, slowly steadying, she extricated herself from the officer. She stood and quickly concealed her member behind clothing, disappearing behind the pale cloth.

Caitlyn exhaled sharply, blades of grass flowing in front of her. A small hand appeared in her vision. She took it with a breath, Soraka helping her to her feet. Surprisingly, the fluid remained in her body. She pulled her panties back up, readjusting her outfit. Soraka fixed her hat for her, her face still dark.

Caitlyn coughed. “Um, what the hell was that for?” Her voice was soft, her gaze turning to the minions battling each other.

“How are you feeling?” Soraka asked. Caitlyn faced her.

“What? What does that-” She stopped. She felt energy in her, like she could fight and perform to the best of her ability once more. She pressed her hands to her belly. “Oh. Um, yes, actually, but Soraka?”

“Yes,” Soraka said, leaning in a little too close. Caitlyn watched her for a moment. Her face had softened, eyes wide, as if they’d just made love. She coughed again.

“Please, don’t do that again.” The priestess’s face dropped as she leaned back. “I can manage without mana. I don’t… I’m with someone, so please, don’t do it again.” Soraka nodded.

Caitlyn opened her mouth to say more but a spear piercing her arm replaced her speech with a cry. Soraka quickly healed her, sealing what she could of the wound, as a great cougar leapt from the thick brush near the river. The three combatants fell into the motions, casting, firing, and clawing as they battled for survival. Caitlyn took more damage than she could manage and launched herself from harm’s way.

The great feline morphed into the familiar form of Nidalee, her muscles tensed and arms pulled back, preparing to launch the killing blow. She fell over as Soraka tackled her. Her grip relaxed under shock, spear falling harmlessly to the ground. She tried to pull herself back up, but Soraka fell between her legs and into her, kissing the nape of the cat’s neck. Her eyes shut in a moan. Only a second passed before her eyes flew open and she pushed at Soraka again, but her strength failed her when she felt a thick shaft penetrate her. She hadn’t even noticed when her loincloth was torn aside.

Acting on instinct, her blood boiled as transformation began in her bones. It was halted abruptly when Soraka crushed her lips into Nidalee’s mouth. All spells, instincts, and actions vanished from her mind, blocked by something beyond her control. Moans escaped into her foe’s mouth as she was pounded into, her body clenching down on the invader. Without much else to do, her hands clung to her attacker’s bared sides, her long nails piercing skin. Soraka returned a grunt but kept her mouth against Nidalee’s. Her tongue surged into the other woman’s, tasting her mouth and keeping her mind under her influence.

Caitlyn watched, jaw drawn, as the two champions fucked violently in the grass. The minions carried on down lane like nothing was wrong, and there was not any sign of the opposing bottom-lane champions.

“Vi stands for- oh, hey Cupcake!” The cheery, pink-tressed champion squelched her charge and ran up to her partner. “I thought their mid-laner came down here, but I guess you handled it, eh?” Caitlyn didn’t respond, gesturing before them. Vi turned, her reaction immediate. Her arms fell to her sides. “Wow.”

Soraka was thrusting furiously into Nidalee. The huntress’s legs wrapped around Soraka’s hips, toes curled. Her hands tangled in Soraka’s hair, mouths still pressed together.

“Did Nidalee confess her undying love or something?” She scratched the back of her head. Caitlyn noticed her cheeks darken.

“Please stop staring.” Vi obliged. “And it’s, uh, I think the most recent League balances released by the institute… altered Soraka’s mana infusion.”

Vi looked up again. “Oh, so she’s dealing magic damage and silencing her.” 

Caitlyn looked over at her partner. Vi pointed at them. They heard Nidalee’s moans even from this distance, and even though she was the enemy, she very much seemed to be enjoying it. Though silenced, she could have fought back in some way. But, Caitlyn thought, it was a little difficult to fight off the horned woman even when one tried to. Her cheeks flushed. She tried to hide her face.

“Y-yes, I see what you mean,” Caitlyn said, cheeks flushed. She tried hiding her face.

“You okay, Cupcake? Like, yeah, there’s a couple of chicks boning right there, but it’s not like it’s nothin’ we haven’t done befo-”

“Vi, stop. It’s… making me uncomfortable.” Vi’s mouth drew into a tight line. “Just take me back to base.”

“Okay, Cait,” Vi said.

Caitlyn didn’t look back.

A blue flash went unnoticed by the pair in the grass. Their weapons laid forgotten in the surrounding foliage as Soraka continued her persistent thrusts. Her frame was small, but as Nidalee was discovering, she was quite powerful and dominated her entirely.

Nidalee rocked her hips, helping her assaulter gain better entry. She cried out, escaping Soraka’s silence, as Soraka hit her pressure points. Soraka ran her tongue up and down the tight muscles of Nidalee’s neck, tasting the salty sweat on her dark skin. Her mind was freed, but Nidalee didn’t fight back. She clawed at Soraka’s back, pulling at her skin as moans escaped her throat in rasps.

Soraka’s thrusts slowed but gained strength, pushing Nidalee across the slick grass. Her legs fell aside. Soraka swung her elbows under Nidalee’s knees. She pushed over her and started pounding her into the ground.

Nidalee screamed, her orgasm rapidly approaching. Soraka fell on her one last time, leaned in down for a harsh kiss, and came hard into the huntress. Nidalee held Soraka’s face to hers as her abdomen convulsed. She bit into Soraka’s lips, moans vibrating her teeth. Soraka thrust more, cum spewing with every push. It soon filled her to the point that it overflowed and spilled down Nidalee’s belly and to her clothed breasts, some falling on their chins in their near-vertical position.

Soraka kept going until Nidalee’s eyes rolled into the back of her head. Her orgasm continued, spreading to her whole body, until she stopped moving entirely.

“An enemy has been slain!” The dramatic voice of the announcer boomed across the Rift. All the others would think she simply bested the mid-laner in battle, a true feat to be commended for as a backline support such as herself. But she knew what she’d actually done to achieve victory.

She pulled her limp, dribbling cock out of Nidalee’s body, which collapsed in a sloppy heap.

Soraka turned, hiding her member away and wiping the tears from her face. She wasn’t going to get used to this. Nidalee’s body lay in the middle of her lane, minions walking to and fro, casting bolts and stabbing one another like nothing had changed in all the years they had done this. Soraka couldn’t stop the sobs from taking her to the ground.

\---

The match ended at the twenty-five minute mark in Piltover’s favor. This was a major match and used to determine whether Piltover and their allies would be granted a section of valuable territory just outside of the City of Progress but had always been off-limits to its inhabitants. This was something to be celebrated, and there were many people, summoners, champions, and citizens alike, all standing outside the summoning platforms cheering for the victors.

But Soraka only felt her early lunch work its way up her throat. Ignoring the crowd, she took to a side hallway and escaped, unnoticed by the mob. They were interested in Piltover’s Finest and Jayce, the Piltover representatives for the match. They were celebrities; Soraka was merely a volunteer. But she couldn’t have been more thankful for that technicality.

She managed to keep herself from hurling all over a wall and made it to her quarters without incident. She shut the door quickly, fell into it, and let the tears fall. She sunk to the floor as she cried, face held in her hands. She had been a part of the league for a long time, longer than most of the champions, certainly longer than many of the Piltover champions. And it had been a bumpy ride. She’d been powerful, weak, balanced, and in some other weird places, but it had been good. She knew her spells, what her job was, and what was expected of her. All she wanted to do was help people, and now, for the first time in her life, she felt selfish.

She desired freedom.

A loud banging on her door jolted her from her sobs. She sat, thinking it may have just been her heart. It repeating told her otherwise. Wiping her face, she walked to the door. She only parted it slightly, but her uninvited guest barged in.

The intruder’s long, crimson hair and trademark scar across her left eyes gave her identity away, as if her revealing leather “armor” wouldn’t accomplish the same. Katarina Du Couteau, infamous assassin of Noxus, looked over the room with her back to Soraka.

Soraka closed the door quietly. “C-can I help you, Miss Du Couteau?”

Katarina scoffed. “Please, Bananas. We’ve been here for so long, just call me Kat.” Her voice was rough, strong. She picked up a glass globe from a table, looking at it closely. Soraka rushed over and grabbed the object from Katarina.

“Don’t touch-!” Katarina glared at her. “Anything…” she squeaked.

Katarina walked a few steps away and Soraka replaced the mana font on its pedestal.

Katarina ran a hand over the silk that covered Soraka’s canopy bed. It was a rich Ionian cloth given to her for services during the Noxian-Ionian war. Stars were sewn into it. Soraka held the urge to swipe the assassin’s rough hands off her bed.

“What do you want, Miss- I mean, uh, Kat, um, K-Katarina?” Soraka spoke softly.

Katarina chuckled darkly. “What, I can’t visit an old acquaintance of the League? We’ve been here for so long…”

“Long enough to know you don’t visit people unless you want something,” Soraka said with more strength than she thought she had.

Katarina laughed, this time it felt more natural. It made her seem almost… attractive.

“I guess you do know me.” She gave the priestess a grin over her shoulder. Her eyes returned to the various objects and devices in Soraka’s room. “Word has spread about your recent… changes.” Soraka tensed, blood draining from her face. Bumps ran the length of her arms. She rubbed at them slowly. “I’m a woman of simple tastes, and I always get what I want.”

“W-well, what do you want?” Soraka had an idea, but she prayed she was wrong.

Katarina faced her with a grin that almost reached her ears. “A certain cat may know.” Soraka’s rapidly darkening face made Katarina laugh loudly. “Oh, ‘Nanas, you’re sure easy to tease,” she said between laughs.

“My name is Soraka, and I’d like you to call me that, please.”

Katarina’s sinister grin softened into a smile. “Kay, Raka.” She smiled at the use of the common summoner-given nickname for the horned support.

It would do.

“So you, uh, spoke to Nidalee…” Soraka said.

Katarina crossed her arms, taking a few steps forward. “Yeah. And I gotta say,” she said, her eyes drifting down to Soraka’s thighs. “I’m a little curious.” Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips.

“That is unfortunate, because I don’t want to.” Soraka spoke firmly, but her chest tightened. Katarina’s smile fell. Her eyes narrowed. But it was replaced by a grin just as quickly.

“Okay, okay, we’ll play this game. You want to do this.” She shoved Soraka into the door, eliciting a grunt. She turned her face away. “I’ll make you a deal.”

“A deal? Why would I make a deal with you?” She moaned when Katarina grabbed her crotch.

“I can help you get rid of this.”

Soraka faced her. She soon regretted it. Katarina kissed her roughly, snaking her tongue into Soraka’s mouth. Soraka pushed against her but the other woman was too strong and didn’t budge. Soraka stopped, her mouth suddenly tasting… sweet. Her hands relaxed, falling to her sides, thudding into the wooden door. Katarina slid a thigh between Soraka’s legs, pulling another moan from the woman. Soraka leaned forward just as Katarina broke the kiss. Soraka panted heavily, gazing at the ginger beauty through half-lidded eyes.

“Hm, maybe I won’t need to help you, anyway.”

Soraka recovered, shoving her arm. 

Katarina chuckled. “Kidding, I’m kidding!” Soraka tried to move Katarina’s thigh, but she wouldn’t step away.

“What can you do to help me aside from assaulting me?”

Katarina grinned. “I’m Noxian. I have far more influence than a factionless support like you.” Soraka glared at her. “You give me what I want, and I’ll do everything in my power to return your abilities back to normal.” Soraka froze. Katarina kissed Soraka again, overcoming the smaller woman. She gripped the door behind her, short nails scratching the worn wood. Katarina pulled back and placed kisses up Soraka’s neck. “So,” she spoke between kisses. “What do you say?”

For everything to return to normal. Casting spells like everyone else, finally free to decide her own intimacies. She’d only been in the cage for so long, but already she wanted nothing more than for everything to go back. But at what cost? Could Katarina, the least trustworthy member of the least trustworthy faction in the league, really do this? Could she do the impossible? Katarina grabbed at Soraka’s breast, squeezing painfully. Soraka bit her lip.

“Okay,” she said, barely above a whisper. Katarina stopped. Soraka opened her eyes. Katarina’s face betrayed no emotion. She watched her eyes, the glossy viridians staring back. Soraka leaned forward. Starting now, she was going to fight her fate. Soon, she would be free.

Their lips met, soft flesh pressing together. Katarina didn’t push, or tear open Soraka’s lips with her tongue, she just kissed her softly. Soraka didn’t know what prompted this shift, but she supposed anyone could act complacent when given what they want.

Katarina pushed the pair back into the flat of the door, but held Soraka’s head back so she wouldn’t be banged against the hard surface. Soraka melted. She knew this was a deal, a bargain, nothing more than selling her body for a favor, yet her body felt secure. Katarina’s hands caressed Soraka’s arms, her rough flesh gently tugging Soraka’s much softer skin. She didn’t dare move her arms in case Katarina chose to move her warm hands from them. Her heart beat fast. Her cock pulsed, filling with blood, pulling the sense out of her head.

Katarina seemed to have noticed the change. She pulled back, bringing a whine out of Soraka, her eyes pleading Katarina to come back. Her mouth hung open, her chest rising and falling, as she leaned into the door. Katarina grinned. It was a mischievous grin, but it made Soraka smile back.

Katarina fell to her knees, pulling aside Soraka’s cloth. Her half-hard member hung between her legs, a great pair of testicles dangling behind it. It was violet, but darker than the rest of Soraka. Tattoos like those on her arms and legs ran its length, crescents and spirals wrapping around in gentle patterns. Soraka covered her face, flushed.

Katarina kissed at her thighs, starting near the knee and working up slowly. Soraka’s embarrassment fell, enthralled by Katarina’s care. Her heavy breathing returned. She stared down at the gorgeous woman between her legs, red lips leaving wet stains on Soraka’s skin. A hand left the door, grabbing at her breast. She slid it under her robe, sliding over a nipple, making her bite her lip. Her other hand reached for Katarina’s hair, but stopped. Katarina looked up to see the limb. Soraka started pulling it back but Katarina grabbed her hand and tangled it in her hair. Soraka gripped her head hard on instinct. Katarina smiled up at her. She leaned in and kissed the dick hanging like a meaty pendulum. Soraka gasped, the cock lurching up slightly. She sucked the hanging skin into her mouth. Soraka felt hot, the warmth of Katarina’s mouth increasing her sensitivity. She squeezed her breast.

Katarina stroked Soraka’s thighs, rubbing in her kisses, then grabbed the beast before her. Her fingers wrapped around the entire girth. She used both hands to rapidly stroke it while placing ginger kisses on the round tip. Soraka moaned, her fingers tightening on Katarina's scalp. Her eyes flashed open.

Katarina, while pumping towards her, pulled the tip of the member into her mouth, tasting the thick skin at last. It wasn’t exactly good tasting, but she could taste Soraka’s sweat and salty pre-cum, which was far more enjoyable. Soraka’s mouth hung wide, her tongue sticking out. She felt her mind go blank as Katarina licked her hole, stroking in rhythm with her licks. She rocked Katarina’s head into her, pulling her farther down unintentionally. Katarina gagged, the cock tip slipping past her teeth and into her throat. Her eyes teared up, streams falling down her cheeks.

She quickly found a way to get air to her nostrils before she choked again. She lowered her head, angling the cock to point directly down her throat. Taking a deep breath, Soraka watching her with glazed eyes, she sprung up. Over half the length disappeared in her mouth making her gag and more tears fell from her eyes. Lipstick clung to the wet cock. It hardened, forcing another choke. Soraka nearly screamed. She covered her mouth, her head pressed painfully into the door.

Katarina sat for a minute, working around the flesh with her lips and tongue, readjusting her jaw. Once she found a little more comfortable position, she started going back and forth. She gagged the first few thrusts, but once lubricated, it began sliding in easier. Soraka watched the beautiful red-head bob up and down on her cock. She let go of her mouth, a moan eschewing from between her lips.

“Kat…” She breathed. Katarina didn’t look up, her mind concentrated on breathing. Soraka placed both hands on Katarina’s head, smoothing her ruffled hair back. She thrust her hips, helping Katarina work it in. Soraka held Katarina’s head in place, stood away from the door, and shut her eyes. Katarina closed hers, too, a deep breath prepared.

With one thrust, Soraka shoved all eleven inches down Katarina’s throat. She cried out, but quickly covered her mouth. Katarina’s gags and vibration brought her to the verge of orgasm. Her balls tightened and she started thrusting rapidly. She moaned loudly, her eyes shut, as she pulled Katarina over the cock. She got faster and faster until she felt it hit. It only took a few seconds for Katarina to fall backwards, coming completely off Soraka’s dick.

She coughed out a light blue liquid. It was milky in appearance, but had the consistency of fresh honey. It was one of the sweetest things Katarina ever tasted in her life. Soraka moaned, ropes of the substance hitting Katarina’s face and chest. It lined her hair, smeared her face, and even dripped onto her chest. After a few moments. Everything stopped.

Katarina swallowed what was in her mouth, gulping harshly, then sucked in air. She coughed again, bringing Soraka down to her.

“Oh, Gods!” She said, recovering fast. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t stop-”

Katarina pressed her fingers over the woman’s mouth. “It’s,” she coughed again, then cleared her throat. “It’s ok. I wanted this,” she said, grinning.

Soraka returned the gesture, breathing deeply.

The pair walked over to the bed, Soraka’s dick softening. She went to grab some clothes from a dresser nearby.

“Hey, um, what is this stuff?” She said, pulling a string of the blue cum off her right breast. Soraka glanced over her shoulder before returning to her search.

“It’s mana. That’s my infusion.”

Katarina blinked. “What?”

Soraka returned, holding a towel decorated in runic designs. She started patting down Katarina, ignoring her baffled look.

“It’s the change they made to me.” She said quietly. Katarina didn’t say anything.

The Noxian assassin and celestial priestess remained silent for minutes. It wasn’t until all of the “mana” had been cleaned up that Katarina spoke again.

“It tastes, uh, it tastes really sweet.” She said, turning away. She brushed some hair behind her ear. Soraka laughed, earning a glare.

“What?” Soraka kept laughing.

Katarina joined her. The two fell back into the sheets in a fit of giggles.

Soraka calmed down and looked over her bed sheets at Katarina.

“Are you sure you just wanted to bed me?” She asked. Katarina looked up at the canopy. The design bore the appearance of the night sky in a fairy tale, with large, exaggerated stars and a deep blue akin to the ocean. Katarina took a deep breathe. Stray hairs flew aside as she exhaled.

“I don’t know, Raka. But, could you not ask anymore?” She felt a soft hand stroke her arm. She looked over to see Soraka gazing at her. Her lips held no emotion, but her eyes questioned, wide and moist. Katarina chuckled softly. She sat up and kissed Soraka. “Now, let’s see where we’re at.” Before Soraka could say anything, Katarina pulled out Soraka’s cock and started sucking on the tip. Soraka flung her head back, gasping.

“Kat…” she moaned. Katarina slurped loudly in response. She bobbed her head up and down the slowly growing cock as she began removing her own clothes. Deeply colored hands fell over hers. She looked to Soraka. “Let me.”

Katarina laid on her back, flinging her boots off the bed. Soraka crawled up the bed after her, her arms pulling at the sheets with shaky fingers. Katarina laughed quietly to herself which earned her a pout from the purple woman.

Katarina pushed her chest out. She stretched out her legs and pulled her belly taut. Soraka’s cheeks grew dark. “Ha, ha! You’re way too easy to tease, Raka!”

Soraka grabbed at Katarina’s chest piece, tearing it open, and planted her mouth onto a released breast. Katarina sucked in air as she felt a tongue roll over her nipple. Soraka pulled the chest piece out from under her and tossed it to the floor in a muddled thud. Her hands wrapped around both breasts, squeezing and groping them. Her breasts were far larger than Soraka’s; both her hands weren’t enough to cover one. She stayed quiet, lips soundlessly kneading soft flesh.

Katarina stroked the starcaller’s hair, lip between her teeth. She held her hand there, noticing its contrast to her pale skin. Her hand traveled upward to lightly grip the horn that protruded from Soraka’s forehead that wobbled slightly as she worked Katarina’s chest. It was solid, jagged. Its edges were sharp, almost hurting when Katarina applied a thumb to them. It wasn’t pristine or smooth, but instead coarse like water-worn rock.

The horn rose, out of Katarina’s grasp, replaced with the scrunched face of its owner.

“What are you doing?” Her breath cascaded over Katarina’s collar, making her shiver.

“I’m just enjoying your body,” she said, grinning. “Besides, it’s in my face. It’d be wrong to ignore it, no?”

Soraka resumed licking and kissing Katarina’s chest but tilted her head to the side, keeping her horn from Katarina’s face. The assassin laughed before sucking in deeply. Over the course of several seconds, her fingers wandered their way up Soraka’s face and back along her horn, caressing the chaotic designs. Katarina merely smiled when Soraka’s eyes shot up.

Soraka sat up, wiping her mouth. Katarina positioned her elbows beneath her, looking up.

“Katarina, what do you want from me?” Soraka’s face turned a deep purple.

Katarina blinked. Then grinned. She rose to meet Soraka’s lips, pressing their chests together. Soraka froze for an instant, her hands braced at her sides, then relaxed. Her mouth gave into Katarina’s advance. Katarina pushed further, forcing Soraka to lean back, as she pulled down her leather leggings. She collapsed on Soraka, taking her cock out, and rubbed it softly.

“Kat…”

“Shh.” Katarina poised the member upwards and lowered herself on it. She sucked a shallow breath then grit her teeth. They kissed as Katarina rode up and down, her hands gipping Soraka’s shoulders. Her insides stretched uncomfortably, a grimace crossing her scarred face. A grunt and a couple thrusts brought the familiar glimpse of pleasure. Soraka broke their kiss, her golden eyes scanning Katarina’s labored visage. Katarina hid her head around Soraka’s neck, her breath wisps across Soraka’s skin.

Her body rose and fell, sweat perforating on their combined forms. Soraka gripped at Katarina’s jacket to slide it down her arms, laying kisses down her shoulder, forcing Katarina to bring her arms down as her last article of clothing was discarded. Arms freed, her hands immediately clawed at Soraka’s back, pulling her back in, avoiding Soraka’s lips. Her voice grew; no longer shallow grunts, but cries and mumbled moans.

Soraka’s hands plied at the flesh of Katarina’s chest, eliciting more sounds from the assassin. She continued grinding, moving faster and harder with every second. The member within her throbbed, making her insides tighten further.

“Ahn!” A heavy wave rose within her, her dead weight forcing the two into the bed, Soraka’s back pressed against the sheets sticky with sweat. Soraka grabbed Katarina’s hips to thrust twice more. Katarina shook violently, a quick shiver that tingled every muscle in her body. Her breath pressed into Soraka’s ear as she convulsed on the starcaller’s dick. Moments passed, and she stopped moving. Soraka didn’t dare shift. The weight and warmth of Katarina’s naked form atop her brought foreign feelings into her mind. She wrapped her arms around the other woman, her dick still throbbing.

Suddenly, with a grunt, Katarina rose fully up and off of Soraka, leaving the woman lying alone and unsatisfied. “Wow, that was…” Her back was turned to Soraka who wore a grimace. Her eyes followed Katarina’s thick, red hair down to her round rear. She softly stroked herself, her finger between her teeth. Katarina coughed, her hair jerking. “Thanks. That’s all I wanted.” Her words fell like stones on Soraka’s ears.

“Wait, but I thought-” She tried to get up only to have Katarina push her back onto the bed.

“Let me grab my stuff and I’ll leave you alone.” Her eyes were cast down. Soraka wanted to touch her, stroke her hair, sweep a finger over her lips, push her against the wall and fuck her for hours. Her cheeks flushed.

“Okay, I guess…” She helped Katarina collect her discarded clothing. She gave a sheepish grin upon handing over Katarina’s torn chest piece. “Um, sorry?”

Katarina chuckled softly. “It’s fine. But I don’t really feel like walking around the institute with my tits hanging out. Got any sewing shit?”

\---

He had never once trusted his brother, his own blood. But their cooperation would be required to save-

Soraka shut her book with a yawn. She stared at the cover, the dim light highlighting the unnaturally muscled male human on the cover. It had been a gift from Irelia who was convinced that Soraka needed a ‘strong man’ in her life. Soraka placed it in her bedside table.

A shuffle brought her eyes up to see Katarina still on the other side of the room, her back against the wall. The assassin uncrossed her legs, her hands working a needle and thread into her chest piece. It wasn’t going to save the armor, but it would at least provide covering until she got back to Noxus. Her pants, boots, and jacket were all back on her, but her breasts were still exposed, several strands of rebellious hair falling over them. Soraka felt herself growing.

“Um, sorry about that, again.” She spoke louder than intended, smiling brightly. Her heart beat heavily, ears aching from the sound. Katarina looked up, hand pulling the needle out far as she yanked a thread through the leather.

“I don’t care. I have a ton of these, anyway. An’ since you didn’t ask, I’ll start working on getting you fixed, asap.” Soraka looked down, her hands in her lap. Katarina strung the thread through another hole. “To be honest, though,” Soraka looked back up. Katarina gave her a sly grin. “I thought it was pretty fucking sexy.” Soraka smiled back, her teeth showing as her lips parted.

In a couple of minutes, Katarina finished. Soraka helped put the patched chest piece on Katarina. The jacket was removed once more and Katarina held up her hair and arms, her back exposed to Soraka. The skin was flawless, pale and milky despite her occupation, made of tight and toned muscles. Soraka heated as she got closer to her. Her heart beat out of her ears. She swallowed, holding up the leather strap that was to cover those gorgeous, milky, soft, squishy, tasty….

“Raka?” Katarina half turned her head, looking at Soraka through her peripheral. Soraka jumped.

“Sorry! Just, uh, thinking?”

“Yeah, yeah, just hurry up, will ya? This hurts.” She readjusted her arms, her shoulder blades flexing under the taut skin of her back. Soraka nearly feinted. She quickly flung the chest piece around her front to catch the other side. Without thinking, she pressed her chest against Katarina’s back as she pulled the chest piece over Katarina’s breasts. Breath poured over the Noxian’s neck, fine hairs standing on end.

“Soraka, I didn’t come here for this,” Katarina said. Soraka breathed deeply. “I thought you just wanted to be left alone.”

“I know.” She stepped back.

It took only a matter of seconds for her to string the lace through the back of the leather, sealing it onto Katarina’s form. It fit amazingly well considering its quick-fix sewing job. Katarina put her jacket back on then fluffed out her hair so it fell straight down her back. Soraka’s eyes followed where she knew the shoulder blades were. Katarina made a beeline for the door, throwing her jacket back on, and grabbed the handle.

“Wait!” Soraka ran to her side, grabbing her other hand. Katarina turned her head back. Her eyes were thick. Soraka touched her cheek.

“I don’t want to make anything out of this.” She brushed Soraka’s hand off her cheek. “Thanks again. It might take a while to get you back to normal, but we won’t need to speak ever again.” Without another word, she walked out the door, slamming it behind her.

Soraka stood, alone at last, in her room, surrounded by all her things. Her books, her fonts, writing tools, sewing and knitting supplies, wood carvings, talismans, and a shrine to the stars, but her eyes were emblazoned with the image of the one thing that was no longer behind her door. She collapsed to the ground, her face falling to her hands in tears.

Through watery eyes, she gazed at a single strand of red hair held between her fingertips. She was suddenly more alone than she had ever been before.


	3. Taking Charge

Grass shook, the tips waving through the still air of the Rift. Grunts, stifled by gloves hands, emerged from the base of the brush.

“Please, mm, hurry…” Quinn’s leather leggings were peeled back, leaving an opening to her sweat-slick skin. Soraka, poised behind Quinn with her chest against the spy’s back, thrust her hips rapidly. Her bright robe flailed behind her, beating back the tall grass. Soraka grunted, adjusting herself, keeping her head close to Quinn’s below the top of the bush.

Quinn peered through the blades of foliage at Ahri, the nine-tailed fox woman, who battered minions calmly. She brushed her hair back, a frown growing on her soft features.

“Jeez, Raka, hur—ow!” Soraka struck Quinn’s head, ceasing her motions. “What was that for?” Her complaint came as a whisper, but no less frenzied than a shout.

“Don’t call me that.” Quinn didn’t respond, instead turning her attention to their slowly progressing enemy. After a moment of tense silence, the air between them thick a mana, Soraka continued. She penetrated Quinn roughly, quiet slapping sounds coming from their skin as their hips met. Soraka wanted this match to end.

Without warning, her groin tightened. She clenched onto Quinn, lightly biting her shoulder, as she expelled her cum into Quinn. She shook for each pulse, her eyes shut. Quinn sighed as the cool liquid filled her. Soraka pulled out, a tiny bit of mana dribbling out of her tip, and ushered Quinn to dress. In seconds, the two were decent and were bearing their arms.

They flew from the bush towards Ahri who had made it to the turret and had whittled it down to a half of its durability. The ensuing fight was short, Soraka having taken the brunt of Ahri’s assault and Quinn dodging the last. Ahri was panting heavily, turning to run, when Soraka leapt on top of her, member exposed.

“Are you serious? You’re just going to… I guess I’ll leave you to it, then. Valor, let’s fly.” Quinn summoned her bird as bright light shimmered around her, vanishing in a flash seconds later. Ahri and Soraka rolled in the grass as Soraka fought to pin her down.

“You’ll have to do more than this to-” Soraka silenced Ahri with a kiss, firm and forced. Ahri’s spirit orb dissipated. Lips still pressed, Soraka pulled aside Ahri’s kimono, parted her panties, and rammed into her. Ahri’s head lunged back, releasing a short squeal as her insides burned. Soraka was already hard and pushed all the way in.

She shoved Ahri back into the grass and positioned herself over the shorter girl. Their gazes locked, Ahri breathing rapidly, Soraka gripping Ahri’s arms harshly. One of Ahri’s hands snaked up Soraka’s thigh, pinching the soft flesh beside her cock. “Don’t hold back.”

Soraka pulled out, nearly to the tip, then pushed down to the base in a single thrust. Ahri tried to cover her mouth, but her arms remained pinned to her sides, allowing a short cry to eschew from her lips. Soraka didn’t stop for a second, pulling back and slamming in at a faster pace than Ahri could fathom. Her hair tangled with the matted grass as her back arced, pushing her chest to the sky. Sweat dropped from Soraka’s brow as her hips moved of their own volition. She eyed Ahri’s chest, her clothes stuck to them with perspiration.

Ahri gasped, looking down with half-lidded eyes to see Soraka tear the top of her kimono down and planting her mouth over her right breast. She mewled out a moan, her eyes rolling back in their sockets. Soraka bit the mound with hungry teeth, her hips gyrating as her hands white-knuckled Ahri’s arms to the ground. Her own chest bounced as she continued thrusting. Saliva leaked from the corner of Ahri’s mouth, her cheek nearly pressed flat against the earth. She tongued the air as another moan clawed its way from her throat.

Soraka growled, red hair flashing in her mind. She pulled out, flipped Ahri over, and then slammed back into the punished fox woman. Ahri gripped the grass in her fingers, clenching her teeth. Soraka reached forward to grope and tug Ahri’s breasts as she pounded relentlessly, her testacles slapping Ahri’s swollen clit. She gnawed at Ahri’s bare shoulder and rubbed her clothed breasts up and down Ahri’s back. She suppressed her own moan as Ahri lost control, her arms collapsing under her mashing her tits into the grass. Her tongue flicked the air as she moaned loudly, her body convulsing. Liquid leaked from between her legs, sliding down her thighs and soaking the ground. Her breath hitched as Soraka’s cock twitched.

She leaned back, grabbing her own breast, as she shot into Ahri. She bit her lip, feeling her juice travel the length of her member before being deposited abruptly into Ahri’s body. Ahri came again, her legs shaking and, eventually, failing her. Soraka followed her to the ground and thrust in one last time, driving the head into Ahri’s womb. She gasped as she shot three more loads. The substance was cold, creating an odd contrast between it and Ahri’s heated walls. There was so much it leaked out and onto the grass. With a shudder, Ahri’s eyes rolled back and stopped breathing, the corners of her mouth turned up in a wild grin.

Soraka ignored the announcer’s death call, pulling her wet and flaccid member from Ahri’s body. She stood and turned around quickly, not giving the woman she’d just killed a second glance.

\--- 

Minions and champions stormed up the steps of the blue base, tearing down the middle lane tower and pummeling its inhibitor until it stopped working. Newly-revived champions sprinted to the defense which the attackers met eagerly with half strength but a more effective team composition. Soraka’s global heal and a few well-placed allied ultimate abilities sent the defenders scrambling with their tails between their legs, Ahri casting a lingering gaze at Soraka.

The red team was one good offensive away from the end of the game. Lux called for mana. Soraka nearly broke down in tears right there. Without a word, she grabbed the light mage, dragged her back down the steps that led into blue base, and tossed her against the stone wall. Lux squealed as Soraka pulled down her leather pants and felt her up with a wet hand. She pulled out her cock to find it soft. Lux had her chest pressed into the stone, panting anxiously with her legs parted. Soraka sighed.

She grabbed her member and ran it back and forth along the outside of Lux’s damp core, Soraka’s fleshy skin pulling at Lux’s clit. Lux started moaning, quickly covering her mouth when Soraka ordered her to do so. Soraka got hard fast. If the rush of blood hadn’t let her know that, than Lux’s barely stifled moans would have. She reared back but spared no time in penetrating the mage. Her tip rubbed Lux’s sweet spot as it entered, sending her into an immediate orgasm that wracked her body with mild spasms. Her legs shook but Soraka held her up.

The celestial woman rocked back and forth, bumping Lux’s womb with every thrust. The girl was small and her pussy squeezed Soraka’s thick member roughly. But she was finding that she wasn’t getting any closer to orgasm. Lux tensed around Soraka as she came again, this time unable to keep that the cry that flew from her mouth. She rocked her hips back into Soraka’s. Soraka just let the mage ride her as she closed her eyes.

Hair as dark and thick as blood. Skin tight as leather. A voice that could grind gravel. Soraka’s hand drifted to her chest as she bit her lip. She imagined thrusting into her lover, her cries ushering her on. Lux’s high pitched chirp brought her back to reality.

Soraka sighted, but was closer. She leaned forward a bit, pushing deeply into the mage. She rubbed her member through Lux’s belly as she angled the head into the roof of Lux’s pussy. Lux’s legs turned into jelly, forcing Soraka to lift the mumbling mid laner. She lifted her by her thighs and kept her pressed into the stone wall. She thrust faster, sending Lux into a frenzy. She licked the stone as more fluid leaked down from her core and dripped to the ground.

Soraka grunted, cumming unexpectedly. Mana shot into Lux’s womb, filling her up and emerging between their two bodies. It fell to the ground in droplets. Lux shook again but Soraka let her fall this time, leaving her in a puddle of their juices with a dazed smile on her face.

Despite the slight detour, the game was still won, Soraka’s team easily overcoming the weaker team composition of their enemies which highly favored a powerful early game and suffered from an under-farmed Ahri. Soraka merely felt hollow as she left the summoning platforms and cried in her room until her eyes were red and her sheets needed to be cleaned.

\---

Wisps of blue energy flowed about Soraka’s fingertips, looking almost transparent across her violet skin. It tickled her pores, pulling at the energy in her veins with tiny tugs of arcane force. In the past, she would idle here with a small on her face as she played with the designs of magic, but this was the present. Her head slumped in her palm, her eyes drifting over the mana flows as they cascaded soundlessly in the font. Her other hand lazily flowed with it. She sighed, blowing some stray hairs from her face.

A loud, raucous growl echoed like a raging beast from her belly, its tremors resounding off the walls of her compact room. Then she felt the pangs of hunger hit her stomach. She hadn’t been eating, food forgotten in her mind, but her body wouldn’t have it. She removed her hand from the font with care so it wouldn’t shatter and left her room, locking the door behind her.

Not all champions lived at the Institute of War. Many, if not most, had homes beyond the magically imbued walls of the home of the summoners. They had cities and families in the farther reaches of the world. For those living too far away, teleports were in place to send champions, and occasionally summoners, to Freljord and the Shadow isles, among other regions.

Some champions were imprisoned here for the security of the citizens of Runeterra. The void creatures and some of those touched by that distant realm of chaos were kept within the Institute for their own safety and the safety of others.  
And a few were homeless, driven by fate or tragedy from their prior homes, or requiring housing after becoming something new. Some were taken in by other societies and others kept inside the Institute not as prisoners but relatively uninhibited under the watchful eyes of the summoners. Soraka, on the other hand, had no one and no reason to be where she was. Before the League and after being stricken with mortality, she had wandered the world helping those in need including Ionia during the Noxian-Ionian war. But her place was not there, no longer welcomed from her having healed both Ionians and Noxians.

These stone hallways and arcane barriers were her home. Not a prison, not her place of employment, but her house, her garden, her final refuge against the world and her mind. Everyone knew her, being one of the oldest champions, a true veteran of the League, if not a bit neglected. Everyone treated her with at least respect for her age. Until her recent change ruined everything.

No one spoke to her, but she heard the whispers. Summoners and champions, visitors and tourists, parted like fleeing locusts as she walked down the corridors. Conversations withered into hushed whispers. She looked no one in the eye, finding the cobblestones at her feet a far more inviting sight. She felt their eyes piercing her skin, searching her garments for rumors and speculation.

“Is it true?” “You don’t think she actually-” “My brother said he saw it!” “That woman from Demacia looked at it with her own eyes.” “You can’t take these rumors seriously.”

Soraka shut her eyes, pressing her hands to her ears. By the time she made it to the cafeteria, the whispers had turned into a storm, scratching her mind until her sanity ebbed away. Everything stopped as she grunted, running into a solid wall that shook as she impacted against it.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the baby of the hour.” Jax’s gruff voice grated Soraka’s ears. His visor stared back at her, hiding his intentions behind the shiny surface. His arms crossed, a few others joining him at his side. No one turned, but those seated around them looked over their shoulders, glancing up from their trays, viewing the scene from their peripherals as they drank from mugs of thick ale.

Soraka guessed Jax’s entourage were fans of his or visitors to the League. She recognized none of them, but recognized their kind. Dirty cheeks and chipped teeth leered at her body. Her hands drifted to her chest, her thin arms doing little to cover much of anything. Her skin burned under their scrutiny.

“I’ve been here a long time, an’ I know this ain’t a rumor. You got somethin’ hiding in there,” Jax said, pointing at Soraka’s crotch. She stepped backwards, hitting someone else. She glanced up, seeing Draven’s toothy grin staring down at her.

“Wh-what do you want with me? Really, I need to-” Draven gripped her by the arm, making her yelp. Jax stepped closer.

“I think you know exactly what we want. Let’s see if this is really as big as they all say it is.” Soraka squirmed and fought but was kept down by Draven’s tree trunks of arms. She dangled a few inches from the ground, her hooves hovering in air. She tried pulling her legs up only to have Jax keep them down. He began pulling them apart, Soraka shutting her eyes as tears fell down her cheek bones.

“Jax, now, now. I didn’t think you were one to be so intrigued by speculation.” Jax stood, turning to the newcomer. Soraka recognized it immediately. She wanted to shout, to plead, but her throat felt hoarse and dry. Katarina walked between Jax’s posse, ignoring their taunts. She didn’t look at Soraka, but the hooved woman watched her bright eyes intensely.

“Don’t be interrupting now, Kat. This is official business,” Draven said. His breath was surprisingly pleasant, likely a product of his excessive vanity. His volume, on the other hand, sent Soraka’s ears reeling.

“You think so? This is ‘official business?’ Tormenting fellow champions for sport? Really doing Noxus proud, aren’t you?” Draven grimaced. “Drop the unaligned and I won’t have to bend your elbow back. I’m sure the summoners could repair it, but it wouldn’t be a quick, painless fix like it would in the Rift.” Katarina rose an eyebrow. Soraka could feel her gaze grazing her own. She felt Draven shuffle, looking at Jax. The gladiator shrugged at his friend.

With a growl, Soraka fell to the floor. It was barely noticeable, present for only a moment, but Soraka saw Katarina tense as she hit the floor. She could practically feel Katarina’s arms around her as her eyes crossed over Soraka. Draven snorted then walked away, a few of Jax’s fans following suit.

“I think your ‘business’ should be done here as well, no?” Katarina said.

“I remember brats who mess with my toys, assassin.” Jax left, the last of his entourage behind his heels. Seconds passed before idle chatter returned to the cafeteria, no longer whispering with hunched shoulders and averted eyes.

“Um, thank you, Katarina,” Soraka said, looking down. “Ah!” Katarina grabbed her by the wrist and took her from the room. Soraka remained silent as the passed through the halls, past all the people who had been murmuring behind her back, past her room, and out the front gates. The ethereal glow of the geological phenomenon bearing the Institute of War illuminated the pair as they stalked down the steps. Soraka could feel Katarina’s grip tighten, but only a bit. She permitted herself a smile, the muscles aching.

Katarina seated Soraka at a bench some distance from the institute then sat beside her, pulling out a satchel that had been attached to her hip.

“Katarina, I-” Soraka was silenced as a bun mashed into her mouth. The taste was sweet, basted in oil, but firm and tough. She grabbed it and chewed, a little too vigorously. She slowed down, covering her mouth to swallow.

“I came to tell you that I’m gonna need to fuck you some more before I take action for you against the Council of Alteration.” Katarina took a bite from her own bread, leaving her pouch of food between them. Soraka recognized it as Noxian cooking, but found it more delicious then anything she’d ever eaten from the League.

“Okay,” Soraka said between mouthfuls. Katarina looked at her with wide eyes.

“That easy? I mean, um,” she coughed. “Yeah, Raka. You learn your place. Bitch.” Soraka smiled as Katarina hid her darkening cheeks. She placed a hand over one of the assassins.

“Thank you, I mean it, Kat.” When Katarina didn’t respond, only grabbing some meat to stuff into her mouth, Soraka continued. “The match today was unbearable. I don’t want to imagine what Jax had planned for me. I know you care, or you would have left me to them.” She squeezed Katarina’s arm. “But you don’t have to admit it.” Grinning, she returned to her meal.

The two sat in a glow, neither speaking. They chewed quietly, staring at their remarkable surroundings, until all the food had been consumed. As Katarina stood, Soraka pulled her down for a chaste kiss. She grinned when Katarina pulled back with a blush.

\---

“Ahn!” Katarina gripped the low wall behind her head as Soraka fell into her slowly. They were near dark foliage, on the ground beside a marble wall that sparkled under the bizarre lighting around them. Katarina’s abdomen glistened with sweat, her belly convulsing as she rose her hips to meet with Soraka’s. Her legs wrapped around Soraka’s back, pulling her in with curled toes.

Soraka wrapped her lips around a nipple, sucking gently and tugging softly with pressed teeth. “Mm…” Katarina hummed through tightened lips. Soraka wanted to cry holding this woman against her, but she refused to be embarrassed in such a way before the skilled Noxian soldier. She switched breasts, rewarded with another moan and a hand gipping her horn.

A thumb traced the ivory. Lips against Soraka’s forehead made her smile into Katarina’s chest. Her body was on fire, melting Katarina’s insides with soft moans and trembling fingers caressing her thighs. Katarina slid a few inches across the ground as Soraka quickened her pace. She captured Katarina’s lips in her own. She lapped at the tongue that met hers like a starving dog. She wrapped her arms under Katarina’s and clawed at her shoulders, making the skin at her fingertips bleach-white.

A moan vibrated from Katarina’s mouth as her body shuddered. Soraka felt the thick juices pool between them and slip down their thighs but only slammed harder in response. Katarina threw her head back, accidentally hitting the wall behind her. She cried out, quickly moving her head back to Soraka’s, pressing their cheeks together. Soraka held her scalp gently, soothing the aching bruise. She placed kisses down Katarina’s neck as her ass went into the air.

A long breath escaped her as she felt her release. She tensed and froze, pumping strand after strand of cum into Katarina. “Oh, gods, shit…” Katarina breathed as the cool liquid filled her. She gyrated her hips, milking every drop from her lover. When the quakes had stopped, Soraka stilled. She allowed herself to drop onto Katarina, her heated body and sweat melting into the other woman’s.

The air smelled of sweat, cum, and sex. Katarina slid her leg down Soraka’s, her feet brushing against a furry hoof. She buried her nose in Soraka’s silver hair, inhaling deeply.

The cool air of the caverns caught up with the pair, their breath evening. Soraka shrunk into Katarina as her skin cooled. Rough hands and a soft embrace welcomed her as she curled, her member removing itself from Katarina.

No words were spoken. Their mouths hung open in level pants. Soraka quivered as Katarina's hot breath cascaded down her neck and over her back. A kiss brought her attention upward.

“Hey,” Katarina said, her voice rough. She cleared her throat, the action sending vibrations through Soraka's skeleton. “I, um, I'm not ready for this to end.” Soraka giggled. She couldn't remember the last time she laughed. “So, I mean, if it's alright with you, can I get a rain check on that whole 'powerful influence' thing?”

“It's... yes, I suppose I can wait a while longer.” She received another kiss for her words. She felt blood rush to her cheeks. “Yet, this is getting hard.” Katarina laughed.

“'Getting hard?'”

Soraka hit her in the shoulder, another chuckle coming from the red-head. “I've been like this for such a short time, yet it's already becoming more than I can bare, don't you dare say anything.” Katarina bit her lip. “Please don't leave me like this for too long. I don't know who else can help me.” Katarina rubbed her back, her hands smoothing over Soraka's hunched shoulders.

She opened her mouth to speak but closed a moment later. Soraka noticed. She held her tongue, as well.

They were dressed and walking back to the institute minutes later, passers-by none to wiser to the pair's adventures outside. Katarina walked quickly in front of Soraka. She held her pouch slung over her back, the cloth beating softly against her skin and leather. Soraka stalked behind her, just fast enough to keep up. She wrung her hands together, her fingers catching and linking with each other. The distance between the two grew until Soraka had to peer between others and around corners to keep her line of sight. Soraka looked through a group of summoners, speaking animatedly about a seer or a deer, to see people, walls, doors, some paintings, and no Katarina.

She scratched her head. After searching in vain for minutes, she returned to her bedroom. She tried the door, finding it locked, then reached for her key. Her hand impacted with a bare rope, she looked down, pulling at her cord and patting about her clothes. She whined quietly as she slumped to the floor. Her cock folded uncomfortably on the cold floor. A metallic rattling brought her attention to the door. The wooden barrier swung open, a grinning Katarina standing in the doorway.

“You need a better lock.” Soraka nearly wept. Katarina turned into the room, leaving the door open. Soraka stood and shut the door behind her as she followed.

“Kat?” Katarina glanced back, her arm dangling from the top of Soraka's canopy bed. “No, never mind,” Soraka said, smiling.


	4. What Darkness Does to Light (Warring Kingdoms Katarina Tribute)

Rough, unforgiving. Fitting. In-your-face, as she is. Tight, yet certainly pleasant. Red as her hair. And her blood.

A white lock falls into Soraka’s face. It drifts in her breath, sliding into a cheek. Katarina does another spin in front of Soraka, her red skirt circling her waist like a hula hoop. Soraka’s cheeks redden as her eyes graze her girlfriend’s panties. The skirt quickly falls.

“Yeah?” Katarina holds her hands over her head, striking a pose with her head turned sideways and down. She snaps a grin at her audience of one.

“Um.”

“It’s a little gaudy, huh?” She huffs hair from her face. “I didn’t ask for it, but I won’t turn away a chance to show off these puppies.” Her breasts press together as she brings them between her arms. A small tent forms between Soraka’s legs. She coughs as her hand adjusts it. “Could be a little more tasteful, though.”

“They’re fine.”

Katarina glances up.

Soraka waves her hands frantically. “I-I mean, it’s fine! It’s fine! Great dress!” Another cough. “Good outfit from the Institute of War.”

Katarina grins. “I’ll bet you’d think this dress would look much better on the floor, huh?”

Soraka’s throat bobs. Katarina leans forward, sliding the top of her dress down slowly, her skin pulling back from the friction. Soraka’s eyes track its progress. The hem stops just short of Katarina’s hidden nipples. The red-head spins back around, tossing the dress aside in a quick motion without exposing her front to Soraka. She smiles at the hardly concealed groan behind her.

She replaces the dress in her wardrobe then begins sliding various outfits across the rack. Soraka’s eyes wander down Katarina’s back, her dry skin pale under the overhead hextech lamp. White fur slides over Katarina’s head and falls down to rest at the middle of her torso. She tugs and twists it before pushing her breasts up. A belted skirt of the same fabric soon follows. She twists back around, a smirk on her lips.

“How about this offender?” She spins on one heels once, her breasts shaking from the motion. Soraka grips her seat.

“G-good, wonderful. Really, uh, captures your eye, I mean my eye, the eye. Gets the eye. To do things.” Coughs. “Great bikini set. Anything else?”

“You never looked at it.”

“You’re right in front of me.”

“Yeah, so why aren’t you looking at it? I know my face is a gift from the heavens, but I’m trying to show off my clothes.”

“Or lack thereof,” Soraka passes under her breath.

“Hey, I heard that, Starlight.” Soraka looks down.  
“Next one, I guess.” She replaces the last clothing articles and continues rifling through her closet. Various fabrics caress her callous hands as they pass over the hangers. She stops at a red number. “Okay, the new one. This isn’t even on the shelves yet.” She glances over her shoulder to see a blushing Soraka whose eyes are affixed to Katarina’s rear. “Hey, my eyes are up here, sweetie.” She looks up, face darkening further. “Turn around. This is a little more elaborate.” Soraka does as told, standing to do so. Her stool falls to the side, but she doesn’t reach down to correct it, instead busying her hands with keeping the things between her thighs in check.

She hears shuffling sounds, cloth on skin, but succeeds to not turn around despite her quivering hands and clenching heart. When Katarina offered to show her the outfits given to her as “skins” for the Fields of Justice, she hadn’t prepared for these reaction from herself. She’d seen these outfits before, even fought Katarina while she wore them. But this was different, wholly more intimate. Sitting in Katarina’s private chambers, doors closed with lock and key, and nothing but their own words to occupy to air around them. Her skin perspires under her touch. She crosses her arms.

“Okay. Wow, that took forever. Look.” Soraka shuts her eyes. She thinks about thinking, about implications and preparation. Then doesn’t.

She spins, eyes open. Katarina stands before her wearing the most amount of clothes Soraka has ever seen her wearing. Skin tights black leggings with gold trip grip her legs, her feet bare. There’s space for boots but Katarina hadn’t been using any footwear for the whole evening. There’s no belt, to Soraka’s surprise. Katarina’s torso is covered with an oriental-style buttoned blouse, the shade of sakura petals. A white and gold vest sits over that, the fabric going up and around her breasts to expose the top of her chest and wrap around her neck in a choker. Her arms are bare. Soraka can’t stop herself from imagining what she’d look like without the blouse, only that white vest covering her sizeable breasts…

“Heh. Should have figured the one leaving most to the imagination would make you speechless.” Soraka looks up to find her grinning back. “There’s more to the outfit, but I figured this would be good enough. My hair will be pitch for it, too, but I like my red too much.” Soraka nods, her eyes returning to the outfit.

“You’re gorgeous.” Katarina’s smile falls instantly, replaced with a blush.

“Starshine, you’ve seen me naked. I don’t know why this is so-”

“Let me admire you, please.” Soraka doesn’t look her in the eye, her voice sharp. Katarina swallows her concerns. She breathes out, pushing up on her toes and stretching her chest forward. She whistles softly, looking at a ceiling corner of particular interest. It reminds her of the cleaning she planned for today.

Neither woman says a word. Katarina shifts weight on the balls of her feet, her hips swaying. She watches Soraka’s eyes bounce around her outfit.

“What did you think of me?” Katarina blinks.

“What do you mean?” She moves to cross her arms but stops as Soraka reaches forward. She huffs, returning her hands to the back of her head.

“Before... this…” Soraka looks down at her lap. “What was I to you?”

“Tonight was going to be fun, not heavy-conversation.”

“Just answer me.”

Katarina sighs. They watch each other, Katarina blinking, Soraka unmoving. She sighs again.

“Not a lot, sweet thing.” Her voice sails through the air on a listing ship, bound for a rocky cliff. Soraka inhales. “I’ve just figured you for a filthy Ionia supporter for years, considering your work with their military during the war. Kind of thought you a little, um, worthless, in the League.” She strokes the back of her neck, her fingers tousling the tiny hairs. Soraka’s hands ball into fists. “Look, that’s in the past. I’ve… shit, I’m bad with all this mushy stuff. I’ve learned, from you and this,” she says, gesturing between the two of them. “After all the books I’ve read, you’d think I’d know not to judge one by its cover.” She smiles at the hooved woman who pouts back.

“Thank you for being honest.” Katarina grabs her hands before they can fidget. Their mouths meet, Katarina pushing, peeling apart Soraka’s lips with her own. The kiss ends quickly, but the heat of it dribble down to the tip of Soraka’s chin.

“I won’t apologize for my past choices. You don’t get far with regret. But this, here,” she shakes their entangled hands. “Is good. ‘Kay?” Looking up into Soraka’s eyes, she grins. The other woman nods.

“I always thought you were rude and selfish.” Katarina scoffs.

“Who says I’m not?” Soraka pokes her harshly to a chorus of chuckles. Her arms wrap around the thinner girl and she kisses her cheek. “So,” she says, pulling back. “Clothes: yes or no?” Soraka grabs the hem of the vest, tugging on the stretched fabric.

“I’m thinking… yes?” They giggle softly. Soraka bites her lip. “And I’m thinking…” Her fingers slip underneath the blouse to tease the soft belly.

“Tonight is for fun then, Starlight?”

“I fucking love your names for me.” Her voice lowers, husky and desperate. Katarina’s eyes widen.

“You get mean when you’re horny. I like it.” Her hands rub Soraka’s thighs, the cloth between them quivering.

“Let me see that vest without the shirt.” Katarina’s brow rises. She pulls back after Soraka’s hands recede.

“Alright, then. No peeking.” Soraka steps backward and onto the bed. She falls back, staring up at the black canopy. Her vision fades, replaced by soft warmth. She pulls away the material. Katarina’s red blouse, unbuttoned and still warm.

Without thinking, she brings the shirt to her face, inhaling deeply. Leather and sweat, ever-present odors on the Noxian assassin, waft into her nostrils. Behind the strong stenches of a warrior, hidden well, are rose petals. Soraka snickers, imagining Katarina with flowers anywhere near her.

“What’s so humorous, angel bite?”

“This smells like roses.”

“They’re part of the outfit. Trust me, there’ll be plenty of petals on the field of justice once I’m allowed to use it.”

“They suit you.” She’s met with silence. Soft padding on the floor echoes in the small confines of the institute dormitory.

“Um, thanks, I guess. Look.” Soraka sits up, her breath hitching instantly.

The simple vest sits right where it was before, only now there’s nothing covers the milky skin beneath. A swath of skin starting from the low-worn pants trails up and blooms in her heavy cleavage. A clear valley between her breasts is exposed.

“I’m a little surprised this isn’t what they want me to wear. The cat bikini barely covers anything. Makes fighting in the Freljord unimaginably painful.”

“Can I touch it?”

“The vest or me?” She asks, chuckling. Soraka stands without speaking. The gap between them shuts rapidly as she descends on the assassin. Katarina barely has time to flinch before Soraka’s hands begin thumbing and caressing Katarina’s skin. Her breath quickens, shallow huffs blowing into Soraka’s hair.

“So beautiful…” Katarina fails to tell whether the statement was directed at her or no one in particular. She moves to take to vest off but is stopped. “Let me.”

“Fuck, I love it when you get dirty.”

“Stop talking.” Katarina makes a grunting sound.

Her flesh tingles under the soft sensations of Soraka’s fingertips. Soraka peels back the vest, allowing her to gaze upon her exposed girlfriend for the first time this evening. Her lips instantly go to a breast, her tongue running over the porous skin. Katarina brushes stray hair from her lovers face as her other breast gets fondled roughly. Soraka uses her free hand to toss the vest away from them then shoves it down Katarina’s pants.

“Starshine, whoa! Didn’t think you’d- oh shit.” Her knees shake and she leans forward into Soraka’s mouth, her neck grazing Soraka’s horn, as fingers surround her clit. “Oh, Starshine…” The pet name only makes the violet woman apply more pressure, bringing the pair to the floor. Katarina’s back hits the cold floor, making her shoulder blades ache. The hot mouth returning to her chest overshadows the discomfort. Soraka’s tongue seeks more than lust, pouring all her needs and desires onto her girlfriend and sucking them back up.

Fingers slide in, pulling Katarina starward. They tremble under the pressure of the tight hole but don’t cease for a moment, driving Soraka’s feelings with every thrust. The skin-tight leggings strain on Katarina’s butt, chafing her skin. All she can manage is a growl, egging Soraka’s fingers further in. She kisses Katarina, lining Katarina’s gums with her tongue, before switching to the other breast. The paired digits pump in and out in a fast rhythm, the hooved woman’s tongue on Katarina’s nipple matching the speed. Her fingers spread on the hardwood floor, clenching, her knuckles going white. A scream coughs from her throat.

Soraka pulls out, leaving the red-head panting on the floor, her spread legs quivering.

“Please don’t… don’t stop…”

Soraka leans in, her hands reaching between her own thighs. “I’m not,” she says, her husky voice barely above a whisper. Katarina gasps as a hole tears through the center of her pants, exposing her. After all the heat, the cold room air chills her pussy lips, making her tighten. A familiar warmth replaces the chilly air, bringing with it clenched teeth and an unimaginable fullness. Inch after inch enters her, bulging her belly.

“Fuck me,” She breathes into Soraka’s ear. The light above them dims, the world falling into the void. Cold vanishes, leaving them alone together. Soraka’s teeth bite into Katarina’s soft neck, leaving marks that will last, symbols of their desperation.

Katarina moans as her tight walls stretch, flexing to allow Soraka’s cock passage. Soraka grunts, accidentally drawing blood from Katarina’s neck. She doesn’t apologize; neither stop. She licks the blood then thrusts harder. Katarina’s legs snap from the floor. Her leathered legs push into Soraka’s back, tugging on her skin and tight cloth. She reaches up, tearing into Soraka’s dress. Shreds fling left and right, Soraka’s motions sending them flying in different directions, until she’s as bare as her lover.

Katarina pulls the taller woman down, mashing their chests together. The saliva still on her breasts sticks onto Soraka’s. Her thrusts, diving further and further into Katarina’s depths, push the pair across the floor. Katarina only vaguely realizes her neck smashed against the wall. A moan echoes through her lips, coursing down Soraka’s spine and into her cock. She throbs, aching for release, but holds it with bared teeth. Hot breath seethes from her flared nostrils, wetting Katarina’s neck. She grips Soraka’s shoulder blades, her nails biting into flesh.

“I need you,” Katarina whispers. Her eyes are open, seeing nothing but star-white hair bouncing across her vision like a shooting star. She makes a wish.

Soraka screams, burying her head in Katarina’s chest. She thrusts harder, hitting Katarina’s womb. Slapping resounds off the walls around them, filling their ears with the sounds of sex. Katarina clenches Soraka’s head to her chest, moaning as her body begins to quiver. Her legs fall down and she meets Soraka’s thrusts with force of her own, slamming her hips into Soraka’s.

Suddenly, they both stop. Time freezes, their minds melding to their shared moment. Soraka’s bouncing hair, Katarina’s shaking breasts, their thrusting hips, the rattling shelves, it all stops. Then it all starts to move again.

One last push sends liquid surging into Katarina, sucking the breath from her lungs. Her walls clench as the hot cum fills her. She can’t keep her grip, her hands pulling painfully on Soraka’s hair, as her own cum coats Soraka’s thighs. She bites thin air, eating the chill. More cum fills her, overflowing and backfiring against Soraka’s hips. She starts to thrust again, milking every drop from her hard vein. Katarina’s tits bounce as she moans loudly, another orgasm seizing her muscles. Cum splatters the floor, their bellies, even flying up to their chests.

“Wow.” It isn’t Katarina’s voice or Soraka’s, instead being wholly more animal, more mischievous. Soraka cranes her neck with no little effort, her cock still filling the girl in her arms. Nidalee stands in the doorway, a small grin on her face. She’s wearing an outfit similar to Katarina’s new one, but Soraka doesn’t care to notice any details.

“Nid, mmh, Nidalee, can’t you see I’m fucking my girlfriend?” She feels Katarina’s chest tighten at the title.

“Mhm, I sure do see that. Well, I didn’t really have any-” Another salvo of cum shoots from Soraka, spilling onto the floor. Nidalee’s half-assed excuse for interrupting them escapes her ears and she barely takes notice of her departure. The door closes and her head falls onto Katarina’s chest.

“Fuck, Starlight, that was really fucking hot,” Katarina breathes. Soraka just laughs.

 

Katarina and Soraka lie together in Katarina’s bed, the light off and bed sheets covering their naked bodies. Katarina bites her pillow, face down, as Soraka pounds into her pussy. Her breasts press into Katarina’s back. She feels warm, and not just around her dick.

Katarina screams her release, her quaking legs shivering beneath Soraka. A moment passes before Katarina realizes there’s still a hard cock inside of her. She turns around, moving Soraka under her.

“Let me take care of you, sweetie.” She moves down Soraka’s body, disappearing below the covers. Soraka stares up at the black canopy. Noxus doesn’t just use black because it’s foreboding and menacing, but also because their nation exists in a temperate zone. Black absorbs light, taking in rather than reflecting light’s heat. Soraka finds it a little ironic.

“Mh.” Her eyes shut as she feels Katarina’s warm lips wrap around her member. Her soft mouth slides over the shaft easily, the head pushing back into her throat in seconds. Katarina moans to send vibrations through her neck, making Soraka moan in turn. She grabs a handful of red hair, forcing Katarina to bob harder. She bites her lip as she comes.

She hears Katarina gag for a second before the sound is replaced by loud gulps. She continues for a few seconds, her thighs clenching. She pants loudly as she releasing a particularly large rope down Katarina’s throat. It’s hot, warm, thick, and Katarina swallows every drop. Soraka feels a weight beneath her eyes. She blinks to fight it off.

“Dammit, Raka! Didn’t I tell you to inform me when you were about to- hey!” Katarina said as she reemerged beside Soraka. She looked back and flashed the best smile she could manage. “Don’t do that; quit crying every other time we have sex.”

“I was?” Soraka reaches for her face but Katarina beats her to it, holding a tear-damp finger up to Soraka’s face. “Oh.”

“I don’t get it. I know it’s not me ‘cause I’m the best fuck in Runeterra.”

“What do you think of me now?”

“So you really need to stop- wait, what?”

“Earlier I asked what you thought of me before this. Now I want to know about the present, about now.”

“Raka…” Katarina runs a hand down Soraka’s cheek, cupping her jaw.

“Please.”

Katarina sighs. “I guess if it’ll get you to stop crying after sex. I like this, Soraka. Like I said earlier. But what I think of you? I think you’re too nice, too accepting, too helpful.” Soraka’s face drops, her head sinking into the pillow. Katarina grabs her face with both hands. “And I need that right now. You’ve shown me, fuck, all this mushy crap… you’ve shown me how to see you, myself, the world, beyond death and mission reports, statistics and quotas. I can’t remember a time being happier than I am now.” She falls back with a huff. Soraka can’t stop herself grinning from ear to ear. “So, there. Hope that was enough.”

“You’re blushing.” Soraka giggles.

“Of course I’m fucking blushing. I just confessed to a fucking Ionian sympathizer.” Her cheeks darken further.

“I think you’re a lot nicer than you give yourself credit for.”

“I’m not a nice person, Stargirl.”

“But you are.” She leans forward, kissing Katarina on the cheek.

“Just go to bed, you horned dork.” She turns her back to Soraka.

Soraka spoons her, holding her around the waist and her dick nestled between Katarina’s legs. Katarina’s hair smells like sweat and sex, and roses.

It’s pitch black. The institute is dead silent, only the girls’ breathing audible in the small room. Soraka’s feeling of complete warmth takes her again. Her smile parts Katarina’s hair. Her heart hurts, her mind telling her about the future, about what will almost certainly happen. She wills the doubts away. This night is real. This moment is now. Her fingers tighten on the red-head’s belly.

“Raka.” Katarina’s voice pulls her from her turmoil. She clenches again to let her know she’s listening. “When Nid barged in, you called me your girlfriend. Do you really see me that way?”

Soraka swallowed. The two had never officially declared they were dating. They just kind of started sleeping together which turned to hanging out then sharing their feelings and their food. She told that to Nidalee because it made sense to her. But she hadn’t exactly cleared it with the girl in question. She blushed.

“Um. Yes?”

“Don’t.” Katarina’s voice wavered.

“Then don’t lie to me.” Soraka spoke firmly, her grip on Katarina tightening. Katarina laughed.

“Okay, fine. Want to go out with me, Skyqueer?” Soraka opened her mouth to protest the name but thought better of it. It was kinda funny, anyway.

“Yes!”

“There. Now you can call me girlfriend. Now go to sleep, sweetheart.”

“I love it when you call me names.”

“Like fag or trash?”

“Ha ha, no! Like sweetheart and Starshine.”

“Oh, right. I just say things. Don’t take them seriously.”

“It’s cute.” Soraka nuzzles Katarina’s back. “Don’t ever stop.”

“Go to sleep!” Soraka hears the grin in her voice.

Darkness and silence captures the pair again. Soraka occupies herself with the scent of her now official girlfriend’s hair, waiting for sleep to take her. She hopes for dreams with laughing and long, red hair, and happiness. Just for one night.

“Starlight?”

“Wha?”

“I can feel you between my legs.” Katarina chuckles. “Even this late, I’m impressed. I think it’s fair to say I’ve ruined you.”

Soraka pulses blood into her dick to find out that, yes, it is indeed hard and sticking right from between Katarina’s thighs, protruding outward.

“I’m sorry. I was just thinking about your hair, and then us, and-”

“Sweetie, darling, just get one off. You’ll sleep faster, I swear.”

Taking her advice without further consideration, Soraka begins humping Katarina from behind. The assassin grunts as the cock strokes against her clit.

“You’re so wet and warm,” Soraka mumbles into Katarina’s back. Katarina laughs before a gasp stops her.

Soraka slides back and forth on the satin sheets, the soft friction only making her harder. The strain hurts and she thrusts faster, slapping into Katarina’s ass. Her breasts compress as Soraka’s fingers slip around them, squeezing them roughly. Her breath quickens, heating Katarina’s back. Her heart beats faster than her thrusts. She moans loudly as her cock seizes. Katarina grabs the dick and slides it into her pussy just as Soraka comes, catching every thick rope. Excess pours out in seconds, dampening the bed, but far less than what fills Katarina’s womb. She bites her lip through her own orgasm, shaking around Soraka’s pulsing cock.

They pants in unison as their orgasms subside. Katarina glances over her shoulder, meeting with glowing eyes. They laugh, kissing quietly.

“Thanks for the compliment.”

“Compliment?” Soraka asks in a drowsy word. Katarina laughs again.

“Never mind. Sleep, Starshine. We can have more fun tomorrow.” True to her word, Soraka falls asleep in seconds. For once, she does dream of red hair and happiness. Black absorbing the light from the stars.


	5. Holding On

“Welcome to Summoner’s Rift!” The announcer boomed across the Fields of Justice, and Soraka’s heart fell into a pit in her stomach. Her party bought their starting items, gold produced from the disembodied pockets of their summoners, then departed to their lanes.

Graves chewed the end of his cigar, sucked it till sparks flew, then blew out a trail of smoke that encased Soraka’s whole head. She coughed, waving her hand, fruitlessly batting at the smoke.

“Ready ta go, lady? Ain’t got all day, now.” He sucked again, this time holding it in a moment. “An’ I heard what you packin’. Don’t wanna see any… funny business.”

Soraka glared are him. “Is this coming from you or your summoner?” Champions typically spoke their minds, but it wasn’t uncommon for a champion to voice the opinions of their commanders.

Graves huffed, ashes falling from his cigar, heaved his shotgun, and trotted down to their lane.

Soraka pouted. Hard enough that people pursued her outside the Rift, now her own lane partner questioned her abilities. The sooner this could be over and done with, the better.

“Minions will be spawning soon.”

Soraka and Vi stood in an enclave made of tall trees. They bristled in the breeze contained within the bubble of the Rift. Constantly swirling but never abrasive. A bird cracked a nut against a branch, shaking leaves, then gave up and flew off.

“Is it true?”

Soraka looked over. Vi leaned against a tree, right in the path of the Ancient Golem. She didn’t seem too concerned about that fact.

“What true?” Soraka knew what she meant, but prayed that she was wrong.

Vi blew a flop of pink hair from her face. She hooked a giant, metal thump into her pants, leaning back.

“That you’re, you know… carrying?” Her face reddened when she said the word.

“Minions have spawned.”

“This isn’t really the time, Miss Vi,” Soraka said, preparing her staff.

Vi stood up, stretched her arms, using her gauntlets to pop her elbows, and walked up to the celestial woman.

“Yeah? I hear you make any time the time.”

With a roar, trees twisted and cracked, and a giant creature of stone and magic leapt into the clearing, smashing two massive fists into the earth. It opened its maw and screeched, a hollow sound more akin to crumbling gravel than an animal.

Vi shrugged and turned, powering a gauntlet and swinging down hard. A shield radiated from her back, enveloping her whole body. So that’s what she started with, Soraka frowned.

The monster fell in a matter of seconds, precious time in the rift. But the killing blow was struck by a swirling crescent twirling through the air. Mid swing, Vi watched in horror as it impacted the golem in the face, shattering stone and dropping it in a heap of rubble. Blue tendrils of magic emanated from the debris, then surged towards Soraka. She grinned sheepishly.

“S-sorry.”

Vi spit some blood into the grass. “What did you start with?”

“Huh?”

“I’m a little beat up and I’m weak. What do you have?”

Soraka assumed Vi was relaying a request from her summoner.

What did we-

Dick, her summoner replied.

Her face paled. Why couldn’t she just have one easy day?

Her golden staff fell into the tall grass. Vi looked at it, turned to Soraka, question on her tongue, and got pushed into the tree she had leaned against earlier.

Soraka pinned the larger woman’s back to the tree and yanked apart an opening at the center of Vi’s leggings.

“Whoa, whoa! This isn’t what I meant! Irk!”

Her head struck wood sharply when Soraka entered her, eyes downcast.

Vi was hot, tight, like she didn’t want to be here, like she didn’t want this to happen. They didn’t really have a choice.

“Please…” A tear fell down Vi’s left cheek, vanishing under her chin.

The tree shook with every thrust, leaves falling on Vi’s chest and tangling in her hair. She tried pushing Soraka away, her massive gauntlets grabbing at the smaller person, but the magic of the Rift prevented any interruption.

The two women grunted, growing louder by the second. Soraka’s hands gripped Vi’s hips, keeping her suspended, but propelling her continually into her pelvis.

“Soraka… I don’t- can’t.” She gripped the tree so hard it splintered. “Uhn.”

Her body shook, belly convulsing slowly. The orgasm tugged on Soraka and she came, filling the pink-haired fighter. One, three, four pulses erupted from her, and she slackened. Vi fell to the ground, crumpling in the rocky debris of the kill that brought them to this point. Blue mana leaked from her, dribbling out, mingling with her own juices.

“I…” she gasped. Vi opened her mouth, panting loudly, but no more words came.

Soraka offered a meek apology, but what could she do? She was as much a victim as those she assaulted. She hoofed it to lane, leaving Vi crying in the dust.

\---

“Ah, fuck!” Miss Fortune mewled, fingers pulling grass. Her face mashed into the ground, teeth grinding together. She grunted with every thrust into her.

Graves got eliminated in the last fight, a trade with the enemy Thresh, but Miss Fortune got weak enough in the fight for Soraka to finish the job. Unfortunately, the best way was the worst way.

Miss Fortune breasts spread over the ground, Soraka pounding her so hard she inched forward continuously.

“Gods, dammit! You’re- ah! So rough!”

“Sorry?” Soraka said between thrusts. Her balls smacked Miss Fortune’s nethers, splattering both women with the redhead’s arousal.

“Uhn, harder!”

Soraka complied, digging her fingers into Miss Fortune’s shoulders, pressing her breasts into the bounty hunter’s back, and pulled out halfway before shoving in as fast as she could. Miss Fortune screamed, her knees buckling under her.

Legs spread apart, flush with the grass, and Soraka continued. Every slam forced another scream from her enemy, and she felt herself near, too. She leaned back, stooping over Miss Fortune’s prone form, now tugging at her hips for access as her victim flailed.

Foreign hands appeared around her breasts. They roughly squeezed the globes, groping through Soraka’s thin dress. The hands were gloved, fingers exposed, but she would recognize that leather in a dream.

She moaned, her eyes closing. For a moment, she imagined a different redhead wrapped around her cock. She thrusted, pushed, rocked with heavy momentum, breathing heavier with every second.

“Mmh, harder, Starlight,” a velvet voice whispered in her ear.

With a guttural groan, she came, thick liquid streaming from her in jets. Eyes flashed open, reality dawning on her.

She filled the hapless Miss Fortune, who squirmed on the ground, dazed and grinning deliriously. A moment after Soraka’s last jolt, Miss Fortune stilled, smile plastered on her spit-coated face.

“Any enemy has been slain!”

Tears jumped to Soraka’s eyes. “I couldn’t, I mean I-”

“Shh, shh,” the gloved woman cooed, caressing Soraka’s cheeks, wiping at her tears before they could fall. “It’s all part of the game, isn’t it?”

Soraka wheeled on her. It was her girlfriend, Katarina Du Couteau. A reprimand came to Soraka’s lips, but Katarina’s extended hand silenced her. She took it, allowing the other woman to lift her off the ground.

Katarina was the enemy, today. Whoever it was that fought today had some sick sense of humor. Or, more likely, was unaware of Katarina and Soraka’s relationship. It was likely of no consequence to them.

They met in a harsh kiss, Katarina wrapping her hands under Soraka’s arms and gripping her shoulders. Her fingers plied Soraka’s bare shoulders, and her eyes closed at the sensation. It was electricity on metal, a shock the traveled up her spine and to her mind. She forgot any protest she had planned before.

The two separated with a heavy breath. They breathed hotly, staring at one another, then laughed, still holding the other.

“I missed you,” Soraka said.

“I know,” Katarina said with a grin. “That’s why I came down here. Thought you could use a… hand.”

Soraka hit her, stifling a giggle with her other hand.

“I saw you earlier,” Katarina said, more somber.

Soraka stared down. “And?” This was her first match with Katarina since they got together. Soraka feared this day for weeks, but Katarina seemed to be taking it well.

Soft fingers and smooth leather stroked Soraka’s cheeks. She looked up at her girlfriend smiling kindly back. “This is hard for you.”

Soraka grabbed the hand on her cheek, squeezing tightly.

Katarina’s eyes widened, looking through Soraka, then narrowed. She cursed under her breath. Her hand slackened.

“My team’s yelling at me.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t kill you.” She leaned in for a chaste kiss.

Soraka stopped her from pulling back, grabbing the back of her head and crushing their lips together. If they were going to be in a match together, she had every intention of taking full advantage of it.

Their tongues swirled, hands holding hips with corrosive control as they kneaded skin in their hands like dough.

“Sorry, babe,” Katarina said, finally managing to escape Soraka’s grasp. “I’ll catch you later, Starshine.” With a touch to the chin and a leap in the air, Katarina was gone.

Soraka stood, alone, beside a wet patch of grass where Miss Fortune’s corpse used to be.

\---

The match proceeded as any other match, though not in favor of Soraka’s team, this time. Akali easily fell to Katarina’s superior skill, and Singed punished Irelia’s recklessness.

Soraka trotted to top lane, land of the bruisers, to help Irelia keep her battered tower from collapsing.

Singed was nowhere to be seen when Soraka emerged from the grass. Several feet away, a haggard Irelia beat away at minions, dispatching the last of them as Soraka approached.

She wiped her brow, stabbing her blade into the ground. “Took you long enough, Soraka. Too bad Shyvana’s shit today.”

Irelia never talked like that, not before Soraka started dating Katarina, anyway. She supposed that was the reason, but she still didn’t understand why.

“I came when I could. Mid lane is really struggling.”

“I’m sure, especially with our support picking sides. Hint: it ain’t ours.”

Soraka blinked. “What do mean?”

Irelia scoffed. “Seriously? Don’t try to pull the wool over my fucking eyes, it won’t work on me.”

“I don’t-”

“Don’t give me that shit, you fucking goat!” She clapped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late. “No, Soraka, I didn’t mean-”

Soraka yanked Irelia’s blade from the dirt and thrust it at her ‘friend.’ “I know exactly what you meant.” She readied her staff, facing down lane. Singed returned, pushing his minions down lane. “I won’t abandon you, but don’t expect me to smile.”

Irelia grumbled, taking position beside Soraka.

Soraka noted the lack of an apology, but she was hardly surprised. Ionian’s were stubborn at the best of times, and their most illustrious war hero was worse than most. But her words still stung like a thousand swords.

Despite being outnumbered, Singed didn’t hesitate to run through the lane, spreading poison in a thick cloud that choked hapless minions. Irelia kept her distance, taking a few swings when Singed neared.

Singed looked different, slightly bulgier in odd places. Brown cloth wrapped around his frame, and he bore a shield with a massive saw blade cutting vertically through its center. His chest came out a bit more than Soraka last remembered, but she never much payed attention to his appearance in the past. Only now, with his lackey on the prowl, she was wary of the master.

“Enjoying the game, lost one?” Singed asked, using a pit of viscous chemicals to separate himself from Irelia. His voice sounded higher, missing that deepness often found in a man’s voice.

Soraka turned to Irelia, but she was busy ignoring the Zaunite.

“Me?”

Singed looked her in the eyes, the creases of his covered face bending into what was likely a smile. “Let’s begin the experiment, shall we?”

Singed ran forward, slid his shield beneath Irelia’s feet, and heaved her over his head. She fell into a pit of chemicals, instantly sticking to the volatile solution, and choked on Singed’s poison. Unable to move, she dropped to her knees, clasping at her throat, and tried fanning away the airborne toxins.

Soraka called a star down on Singed, who took the celestial projectile to the chest and stood strong. “Gotta do better than that!”

She grimaced. Her groin pulsed, telling her what her summoner wanted to do, but she really didn’t want to. She just wanted to save her friend. With the changes, her heal was now close range, as well. With Singed in the way, she would need to get past him.

Minions continued stacking in his favor, Soraka’s minions dying in clouds of purple mist, and Irelia laid dying in a heap behind Singed. Soraka swallowed.

She summoned another star, but targeted the minions instead. They fell to her charged star, giving Irelia some levity. Singed fell to the ground as Soraka tackled him. A swipe from her staff removed his—or her—bandages. Full lips grinned menacingly up at her, while a pair of breasts fell from a now exposed torso. Soraka could only imagine what she sat on. Irelia looked back, the poison dissipating.

“Well?” Singed asked.

Soraka pulled her robe aside and her cock rose, stretching out and flopping down between Singed’s breasts. It pulsated, rubbing against slick skin. Soraka leaned down, pinning Singed’s hands to her sides, and slid her tip to Singed’s lips.

“Better be quick,” Singed said, her new voice feminine but still rough and cruel.

Soraka thrust forward, forcing her dick into Singed’s mouth. Her hot saliva coated Soraka, and she gasped at the intense heat. She didn’t want Katarina to see this.

She made a rhythm, pushing in and pulling out with enough speed to keep constant friction going between Singed’s tits.

Irelia managed to stand and trudged past the copulating couple, barely giving a second glance before activating her fountain portal.

Every jerk brought her closer to climax, and closer to this encounter being over. Her eyes closed, focusing only on the hot wet wrapped around her. Gasps escaped her lips. She bent over, pushing half her length down Singed’s throat, and relinquished her hands.

Singed flipped Soraka over with a yelp, her dick falling free. She laid on the ground, rubbing the back of her head. Before she could recover, Singed fell on top of her, grabbing Soraka and stroking her roughly. Their mouths mashed together sloppily. Soraka tried to push her off, but she was strong, muscled, and with her dick in the open air, she was vulnerable.

With a moan, she came, splattering blue cum over her own body. It burned and melted her clothes, revealing her belly and chest. Mana was harmless to those who consumed it, but was bad for clothes and other inorganic or unenchanted materials.

“Little fast there, girl. Want to see what you can really do?”

Soraka fell onto her back, breathing, deeply, unable to move. Her dick lay flaccid over her thigh, still dribbling. Her teeth gritted when Singed grabbed her again, stroking and sucking violently.

“We’re not done yet,” she said.

Soraka got hard again in a couple of seconds. She tried pushing Singed away with her arms, but couldn’t move her attacker at all, as if she fought a brick wall.

Singed lined up, holding Soraka’s dick up, and tore a hole in the bandages covering her crotch. Her center glistened as she impaled herself on Soraka. Both moaned as their bodies met.

“How long do you think you can last?”

Soraka didn’t answer.

Singed was strong and heavy on the smaller woman, oppressive and forceful. Singed suck Soraka into her deepest corners, filling her till it hurt. Singed grabbed at Soraka’s breasts, tearing aside her frayed robe and groping the blue flesh with coarse hands. She knew if the Rift weren’t enchanted, she’d have bruises soon.

This was why she never came top lane. She couldn’t handle top laners, not in her current state, and now it seemed Singed had a bone to pick with her. She wished Katarina was there. Her summoner remained silent.

As she neared her second climax, Singed sped up. Soraka groaned involuntarily, her own gut fighting against her. Her legs tensed and she gripped Singed’s thighs tightly, praying for release.

Singed stood, making Soraka pull out, the motion finishing her. She, once again, came all over herself, coating her breasts in luminescent blue liquid. Ropes of it lined her torso up to her face, shutting her left eye, some falling into her mouth, running along her teeth.

She panted, her chest rising and falling harshly. Layers of her many grew cold in the Rift’s easy temperature. Singed swiped a speck of it, licking her finger.

“Hm. I think this will require further testing.” Singed pulled a vial from a pouch on her hip, uncapped it, and scooped it through the valley between Soraka’s breasts, filling it. She capped it and hid it away, saluted the breathless support, and walked away.

Soraka lay prone in the grass, letting it bat against her ears, watching the magically-imposed sun remain fixed in the sky, never moving. She couldn’t believe that just happened. She’d never lost, never been overcome by someone. And it didn’t seem like a coincidence. Singed was too aware, too confident. Not that he, or she, had ever lacked for confidence, but it was almost as though she knew more than any of the other champions Soraka had encountered since receiving her “gift.”

“Oh, shit, Starshine.” A lovely voice filled her head.

“What are you doing here?” And a less lovely one.

“Look, princess, I don’t have any beef with you; why start it?”

Katarina came into view, reaching down but looking away.

“You invaded my-!”

“Please,” Soraka said, regaining her voice.

They both stopped.

“Sorry, baby.” Katarina leaned down, kissed Soraka’s forehead, and placed her blade across Soraka’s neck. “Want a quick reset?”

“Get away from her!”

Before Irelia could do anything, Soraka took Katarina’s hand and pushed it into her throat.

“An ally has been slain!”

\---

They lost the match, and almost everyone blamed it on Soraka. Vi brushed her off, Graves flipped her the bird, Akali cussed her out, and Irelia sulked away, unwilling to defend her friend.

Katarina came up from the other side of the room.

“If you weren’t off fucking everything that moves, this wouldn’t have happened! Now I have a black mark on my fucking record!” Akali stood inches from Soraka’s face, spit coming from every punctuated syllable.

Katarina grabbed her shoulder and yanked her back.

“Wha- hey! You’re as much behind this as she is! Fucking Noxian, ruined my summoner’s promos!”

“Wow, so sorry, hun?” Katarina said, shrugging, hands raised.

Akali swung a fist, but Katarina sidestepped and let the ninja stumble down the steps leading down from the warp platforms. She caught herself, landing on her feet, tossing a glare over her shoulder. She made a cutting motion over her neck before stomping out of the room.

“Phew, what a mess.”

Soraka immediately collapsed, hugging her knees, her body shaking.

“Whoa, Raka, what’s wrong?” katarina fell beside her, rubbing her back. After a moment, her face wrinkled. “I mean, sorry. I can kinda guess. Um, wanna come back to my room?”

Soraka said nothing, just grabbed Katarina’s hand and tugged, head still buried.

Katarina laughed. “Ok, let’s go, cutie.”

The walk through the Halls went about as well as Soraka thought it would. Katarina had to defend her girlfriend around every corner, a couple people almost managing to strike the shell-shocked Soraka. She stumbled behind the redhead, holding her hand, her grip tightening with every encounter.

Images flashed in her mind, reminders of everyone she’d assaulted, and now of the one who assaulted her. She didn’t want to see anything, terrified of every face on the League’s roster.

“Hey.”

Soraka looked up. Katarina stared back, face soft, sympathetic. It took everything Soraka had to not break down again.

“What?” She said, sniffing.

“Hey,” Katarina repeated, rubbing a thumb over one of the bags under Soraka’s eyes. “I’m here, ok?”

“Hardly makes me feel better.”

Katarina smiled. “I know.”

They made it to Katarina’s room without any more incidents. She shut the door behind them as Soraka sat on the chair near Katarina’s workbench. The redhead walked to her stove, moving an old pot of water onto the stove top and started a fire in the basin. She shut the trap and turned to Soraka who was looking out the window at the opposite end of the room, having pulled back the black curtain.

“So, I heard someone in Piltover’s made some kind of new pastry,” Katarina said.

Vi’s voice flashed through Soraka’s memory. She winced. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Oh.” Katarina sat on her bed, watching the tea kettle.

Minutes passed, the only sound coming from the stove and Katarina’s heavy sighs. Light flickered into the room from outside, but slowly died as the night set in. Soraka’s gut ached, hungry, but her brain wasn’t ready to eat. She just wanted to hide in a hole in the ground and never come out.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Soraka said, not looking away from the window. Leaves spun about in the courtyard. Zyra sat on a bench, braiding leaves into Elise’s hair. Soraka, couldn’t make out their faces in the dwindling light.

“For not being there, for not warning you, for… being… shit, I don’t know. Maybe I could’ve done something.”

“No, it’s fine,” Soraka said.

The tea cup whistled. Katarina took it off the burner, placing it on a hot plate on the counter to her right. She dropped two teabags into separate cups then poured water into each. She brought Soraka a cup, who took it without looking and placed it on the workbench, eyes fixed on the couple outside.

“Ooh, if it isn’t Elise and her new squeeze,” Katarina said, blowing lightly on her own cup. “I heard they ‘connected’ on the Fields and have been practically attached at the hip since.”

“Hm,” Soraka hummed, taking a sip from the tea. If it was too hot, she made no indication.

Katarina sat on the only other chair in her room.

“Feel free to stay the night here. Let me know if you need anything. I can get food, or we could, like, have sex, or-”

“Or maybe you could do what you promised to do.”

“What?” Katarina said, looking up from her tea.

She ducked, barely dodging Soraka’s teacup as it flew through the air. It exploded in a shower of ceramic shards and vapor.

“Fix me! It’s been two months, Katarina!” Soraka stood on her hooves, thrusting two fingers forward.

Katarina looked away, putting down her tea.

“Look at me, Katarina.”

She didn’t.

“Look at me!” Her voice bellowed across the room. The liquid in Katarina’s cup undulated.

She looked up, trying her best to hide her eyes.

“None of this, I mean none of this, would be happening if you just did what you said you would. What are you waiting for? Haven’t I held up my end of the ‘bargain?’” Tears fell down her cheeks, but she made no move to remove them.

“I’m… not ready.”

“I don’t care. I want my life back. I want my poor, miserable, lonely life back so I can stop wanting to kill myself every fucking day! Now, tell me you’re going to do it right now, or I am walking out of this room and never coming back.”

“I’m scared!” Katarina shouted.

They both stood quiet for several seconds. Soraka breathed heavily, but said nothing.

“I’m part of the Noxian hierarchy. I have a reputation, and responsibilities. This whole thing is happening because… look-”

“I don’t want to hear it. You promised me. I’ve dealt with this kind of betrayal before. I walked away once, and I will do it again.”

“No!” Katarina stood up.

Soraka swallowed, but maintained her ground.

“I’m not ready to lose you!”

Soraka’s breath caught in her chest.

“I have a reputation in the Noxian military,” she said. “And it’s a reputation that earns me a lot of respect, but no love. I’ve never had this,” she said, gesturing between the two of them. “Before. I have access to any number of men and women I want. But it’s not affection. It’s not… this. And, I thought, if I just dragged it on, it would last forever.”

Soraka untensed. “Katarina, please. I’m miserable right now.”

“You’re miserable with me?”

“No, please, don’t make this about you.”

“How isn’t it about me? I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You’re not the one with a foot-long contract hanging between your thighs!”

“I love you!”

Silence returned, now with no sound, no movement. Just eyes, scanning every flinch, every quiet breath.

Katarina sat back down, hugging her arms.

“Shit. I-I’m sorry. You’re right. If I’m not good for my word, what good am I?”

Soraka walked up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“You’re good for a lot.”

Katarina grinned at her lover. “Is that supposed to be sexy?”

A loud slap left a red imprint on her cheek.

“Asshole,” Soraka said, but her tone belied the insult. She smiled.

“I’ll do it. I’ll go talk to the board and… see what they think. Surely, they didn’t believe this would be permanent.”

Soraka kissed her on the lips, holding the kiss for a few seconds before letting go. “Thank you. And, to your credit, I understand. I can’t imagine being without you, either.”

Katarina looked up. “What was all that stuff about leaving and never coming back?”

“You really thought I’d do that?” She said, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Heh, maybe. I don’t know, I was scared. And you threw my fucking teacup!”

“Yeah, I’m really sorry about that.”

“Hey, it’s whatever. I’ll just get a new one.”

“Not that, for almost hurting you.” Soraka kneeled and placed a hand on Katarina’s cheek.

“Like your words didn’t?”

“Surely, you understand where I’m coming from.”

“No, I do, I do. Just sounds funny that you would be concerned about hitting me after you said all that.”

Soraka kissed her again, this time sliding her tongue into the assassin’s mouth. Katarina kissed her back, but only for a couple seconds, before pushing her away gently.

“Raka. How are you feeling?”

Soraka smiled at her.

“That doesn’t answer my question, in fact, I think it’s-”

Another kiss silenced her. Katarina moved to push her away again, but Soraka shoved her hand into Katarina’s pants, pinching the redhead’s clit. She moaned into the kiss.

“Sorry,” Soraka said, pulling back less than an inch. Her breath danced over Katarina’s lips. “I really need this right now, ok? We’ll talk more later, I promise. And I actually hold my promises.”

“Very funny, Starlight.”

Two fingers entered Katarina and she buried her mouth in Soraka’s as a groan tore through her throat.

She gyrated her hips, pushing Soraka farther into her, letting her wetness soak her pants and Soraka’s hand. Soraka moved up, sitting on one of Katarina’s legs and grinded into it. She grew hard, her erection stretching her robe and inching over Katarina’s leg.

“Fuck,” Katarina said, taking breathes between kisses. “Are you always this hot?”

“I had a rough day.”

“I’ll bet.”

Katarina held Soraka’s neck, moving her head down to kiss the tight skin. Soraka’s eyes closed. She slid another finger into Katarina and whimpered when Katarina moaned into her neck.

Soraka’s erection reached Katarina’s belly, the tip poking Katarina’s skin, only the thin robe separating them. It pulsated, nudging gently.

Sweat beaded on them as they moved into each other, caressing and kissing. Katarina continued down, licking a line of saliva down the front of Soraka’s tunic, sucking on her tit through the cloth.

Katarina stroked Soraka through the cloth, pressing her member between hand and thigh. Soraka humped into the strokes, growing louder. Her hand flexed, pulling at the roof of Katarina’s pussy. The redhead grunted into Soraka’s chest, teeth still holding onto a stiff nipple.

“Baby,” Soraka breathed.

Katarina ‘s tongue lolled on Soraka’s chest. “Me, too.”

Soraka rocked back and forth, faster and with more urgency. One hand on Katarina’s shoulder and the other buried in her, pinching her folds. Katarina grabbed her lover’s neck, kissing her deeply as her other hand worked Soraka’s cock.

After a few sudden jerks, cum dribbled through Soraka’s robe, dripping onto Katarina’s pant leg and smearing her belly. She, in turn, froze as she came over Soraka’s hand. Cum continued spurting from Soraka as she rocked, leaving a blue trail across Katarina’s leg. The mana gradually burned through the cloth and leather, exposing Soraka’s cock and a swath of pale skin.

Both women sat still, panting heavily. Still breathless, Katarina kissed Soraka and sucked on her tongue, both hands cupping her face. Soraka pushed her away after a couple seconds, gasping loudly.

“Give a girl… some breathing room,” she said with a smile.

“That was… hey, my leg feels kinda- what the fuck?” Katarina looked down to see that her left thigh was completely exposed, Soraka’s half-hard dick resting on bare, wet skin. The surrounding leather was frayed and peeling, pulling apart from the loss of support.

“Oh, um, mana’s not good for clothes. Sorry.”

“That’s kinda hot, actually.” She rubbed the newly revealed skin. Mana came off, clinging to her fingers which she rubbed between her thumb and index finger. “I have an idea.”

She stood, helping Soraka up, as well, then jumped on her bed and scooted to the back to rest on her pillows. She parted her legs and beckoned Soraka to her.

“Another round?”

“It’s make-up sex, right?”

“I mean, I guess so,” Soraka said, rubbing her arm. Her cock hung idly between her thighs, now missing its covering.

Katarina bit her lip, rubbing herself through leather. “You should walk around with that thing hanging down more often. It’s sexy.”

Soraka pouted. “You know I don’t like it.”

“I know, I know. Silver linings, right?”

Soraka walked over, shedding her robe and belt. With only arm wrappings and bicep bracelets, she crawled onto the bed. Katarina touched her face as she neared.

“I’ve been with a lot of people, but I can never get over how gorgeous you are.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Um, I don’t know? It’s just how I feel.” Katarina’s expression dropped.

Soraka giggled, covering her mouth with a hand. “And people call me clueless.” She leaned forward to kiss Katarina.

While kissing, Katarina grabbed Soraka’s cock and started stroking her with two hands, tugging the horned woman closer.

“Oh, ow! Careful, Kat.” She inched up until Katarina stopped her a foot from where she sat.

“Ok, now just sit back and enjoy the show until you, you know, want to ‘jump in.’” She laughed darkly.

Before Soraka could inquire further, Katarina leaned forward and sucked Soraka’s tip into her mouth. Soraka grabbed the redhead by the hair and pulled her down, forcing a few more inches into her mouth.

She sucked, lips working the shaft, her tongue circling the hole. Soraka moaned softly, touching her balls with one hand. Her other continued pulling down Katarina’s head, but not rough enough to hurt her. She bit her lip watching the assassin go down on her. Katarina managed to fit more than half of the length, now completely hard. She gurgled slightly, choking, but pulled back before Soraka could get worried.

Katarina stroked the rest of the cock with her hands. Saliva dripped from her overworked mouth, moistening the bedsheets beneath. Soraka’s moans grew louder and her lower hand moved to touch her chest, rolling a nipple between her fingers.

She gasped. She grabbed one of Katarina’s hands, leaving her hair, and helped her stroke faster.

“I’m,” she moaned.

Katarina pulled off with a pop, leaned back, and aimed Soraka’s tip at her groin.

Soraka bent forward, holding onto Katarina’s thighs, and came. Blue ropes shot forward, the force of her orgasm sending spurts in various directions. Cum splattered Katarina’s belly, pulling in her navel, and even reached her chest leather, cutting it in half. One last burst splashed on Katarina’s crotch. The material sizzled and curled back, revealing Katarina’s glistening pussy.

Soraka rushed forward.

Katarina’s chest piece fell aside, her tits bouncing as Soraka entered her in one swift motion.

Soraka stifled a moan into her neck as Katarina screamed, clawing at Soraka’s back. Her back pushed against the bed’s headboard as Soraka fucked her, pushing into her with quick, jerky thrusts.

“Sh-shit,” Katarina choked out. Her nails pierced skin, leaving red marks in Soraka’s violet skin.

Every pump made the bed rattle, the women moaning and gasping. Breasts pressed together awkwardly, but they ignored any discomfort, reveling in the ecstasies of filling and being filled.

Katarina kicked her boots off and pulled her feet around Soraka’s back. Her leather tugged on Soraka’s bare skin as her body shook with every motion.

“Again,” Soraka whimpered, hiding her face in Katarina’s neck.

One thrust, two, and Katarina, screamed loudly, her womb filling with heat. Every spurt spurred on her orgasm, shaking her to her core. The tight grip on her back made Soraka grunt in pain, but she continued pouring into her girlfriend. Cum dripped from her, burning into the bed. They kissed, pushing their lips as tightly together as they could. Tongues reached for anything in the other’s mouth, stroking gums, licking lips. A final burst flooded into Katarina, spilling out with a wet squelch. Her belly bulged as her own orgasm subsided.

The two collapsed on the bed, falling sideways. Soraka’s cock slithered out and mana streamed from Katarina until her belly slimmed. They panted, hands clasping together.

“That was,” Soraka gasped.

“Really fucking hot.”

“I was going to say ‘intense.’”

Katarina laughed, coughing a second later from the effort. “Are you sure? ‘Cause that was the sexiest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Soraka turned her head. Katarina was staring up, eyes glazed and mouth open. Weeks had passed, but Soraka still felt that same elation in her gut when they had sex as when they first made their deal. She kept telling herself she hated sex, hated losing her intimate autonomy, and every trip to the rift proved her right, but Katarina always made her feel different. Like she had someone to treat her like a person, not a weapon or a sex toy.

She stroked Katarina’s cheek, the skin smooth to the touch.

“I love you, too.”

Katarina looked over, eyes wide.

“I just hope you’ll still like me even after this big thing’s gone.”

The redhead sat up so abruptly she had to hold her head, wincing.

“Don’t move so suddenly,” Soraka said, moving slower to touch Katarina’s shoulder.

“No, don’t think that. This is something I’ve never had, and I’m not about to throw it away for anything, dick or no.”

Soraka pulled her in, hugging her tight. Katarina kissed her neck.

“Whoa, I don’t know if I could go again.”

Katarina laughed into her skin. “Just a little affection.”

After a minute, they both stood to clean up. Neither said anything as they used rags to pad themselves down, but they threw passing glances, smirking when they caught the other’s eyes.

They returned to the bed, light off, and went beneath the covers. They ignored the fist-sized hold in between them.

“Raka.”

“Yeah?”

“What are you gonna do about all the things you burned?”

“Ooh. Um, I’ll figure it out when I wake up?”

Katarina shrugged, kissing Soraka. “Works for me.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story was started back in 2014 when I looked at a ton of FutaRaka pictures on Hentai-Foundry and thought, "Wouldn't it be funny if her infuse got replaced with a dick?" Yeah, up until they reworked her kit and made her USELESS. Well, this is that story. It started out being a mostly harmless story of Soraka playing matches, fucking her adcs and enemy champions, but my tiny shipper heart got the best of me and I threw a pairing into it. The first chapter is the beginning of another story I made before Sorakananas called Magical Science that was supposed to be a gender-bend story about Singed (who I had a man-crush on at the time) becoming a woman and getting with Cassiopeia. I never continued the concept, but Sorakananas got quite a bit longer and I needed a villain. Bam!


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